


I Am Complete

by escapethroughreading



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 26,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28495878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escapethroughreading/pseuds/escapethroughreading
Summary: Sam meets a spunky young hunter when they both show up for a case. The two of them share a spark, and before you know it, they're dating. As they travel on hunts together, they face off against lots of monsters. But when a super evil demon dude escapes, they have to fight with all they have to take him down.
Relationships: Dean Winchester x Castiel, Sam Winchester x OFC





	1. Chapter 1

SAM’S POV:

I literally just sat down. I didn’t even have time to open my book before Dean came bounding into the bunker. “We got a case, Sammy.” He calls out. I sigh. I was really hoping to start reading this book. It’s been sitting on my nightstand for almost a month now. I’ve almost started it a few times, but I always get pulled away, either for a case or because Cas set something on fire in the kitchen. He does it a lot more than you would think.

I walk over to the table and sit next to Dean. He slides the newspaper over to me. The newspaper is folded over to a small article, just a few paragraphs long. I skim over it and read aloud. “Local Colorado man found dead in home, eyes missing. Doors and windows were locked. Police have no leads as of yet. His family has not yet spoken on the matter and has turned down any requests for interviews.” I look at Dean. “Sound likes our type of thing. Spirit?” Dean nods. Looks like we have another case.

“How far is the drive?” I ask. “About eight hours. Not too bad.” Eight hours. Could be worse. I get up and head to my room, debating about what to pack. Who knows how long we’ll be there for. I decide to pack for about a week, if we stay longer I can do laundry or re-wear dirty clothes, both are fine. I carefully fold my suit and put it on top, trying my best to keep it from getting wrinkled. It looks rather unprofessional to show up to a crime scene in a wrinkled suit.

I meet Dean at the car, climbing into the passenger seat. Dean starts the car and the radio begins playing Eye of The Tiger. I actually like the song, I just don’t like when it’s so loud that it bursts my eardrums. “Can you turn that down? Please?” Dean rolls his eyes but lowers the volume. I lay back in my seat and try to get some shut eye.

****************

When I wake up, we’re driving through a small town. This is the kind of town that’s just outside the city, the kind of town where everyone knows each other. “Where are we?” I grumble, my voice raspy from sleep. “A little town called Central City. Seems pretty boring.” I brush my fingers through my hair and rub the sleep from my eyes. The town, though small, is bustling with people, going in and out of stores. Teenagers sit outside, drinking sodas and chatting. An old couple walks along the sidewalk, hand in hand.

Dean pulls into the parking lot of a dingy motel, the light of the sign half-heartedly blinking. The O of ‘motel’ is missing, the stain the only remnants of it left. Dean parks the car and we hop out. We pay for a room and walk over, unlocking the door. The inside of the motel room isn’t overly nice, but it’s not terrible either. The wallpaper is a faded green, and the carpet has some mysterious stains, but overall not too shabby. I lay my suitcase on the ground in front of one of the beds and Dean does the same. “Let’s change and then head over to the scene, see what we can find.” Dean says. I nod in agreement.

Once we’re all suited up, we make the short drive over to the crime scene. The house is surrounded by yellow police tape, but other than that, it looks like a fairly normal house. It’s two stories, white walls, a wooden door. You know, the picture perfect cookie cutter house. I straighten my tie and climb out of the car. Dean and I walk over to the cluster of police men. We flash our badges. “Hi. I’m Agent Jackson, this is my partner Agent King. We’re from the FBI.” Dean says.

The police men look at each other. “The bureau actually already sent down an agent.” one of them explains. Dean and I glance at each other. Another hunter. “We know, we were sent to assist. The more the merrier.” I say, giving a fake smile. “I see. If there’s anything we can do to help you guys, let us know. Your other partner is right over there.” The police offer points to the right. My eyes land on a petite woman whose back is turned to us.

We thank the men and walk over. The woman must hear us coming, because she turns around. She offers a tight smile. “I didn’t realize the office was sending down more agents.” She says tensley. “Hm, they must have forgotten to tell you. We’ll fill you in over here.” Dean replies, gesturing for her to walk with us. She heaves a sigh and follows. We stop a few feet away from the police men and face her.

She’s small. I mean, yes, I am tall, so everyone seems small, but she’s extremely tiny. She can’t be more than 5’3”. She has long brown hair that flows down her back. My eyes meet hers. Her dark green eyes stare inquisitively at me, studying Dean and I. Her lips are colored a bright, eye catching red. She’s dressed in a white button up shirt, which is tucked into a tight black pencil skirt. A black long sleeved blazer covers the woman’s arms. Her black bag is slung across her shoulder, hanging by her side. She’s wearing a pair of black heels on her feet that look very uncomfortable. She’s beautiful. Not in the model way, but in a different way. Her confidence, the way her eyes show what she’s thinking. She’s stunning.

“I didn’t expect the Winchesters to be here.” She says, placing a hand on her hip. “Should we know you?” Dean asks, eyeing her. “No, we’ve never met. Jo told me about you though, before she passed away. I’m Andy, Andy Bellford.” She sticks out a hand for us to shake. I shake first, her grip firm. “I would introduce myself, but it seems you already know who we are.” Dean gives her a flirty smile. He’s with Cas, but that doesn’t stop him from constantly flirting. He would never cheat on Cas, it’s just part of his personality. 

“So what's the plan?” she asks. “Um. W-what do you mean?” I question, tripping over my words. “Well, I’m not leaving, so I figure we’re going to be working together. So, where should we start?” Dean shakes his head. “Nope. Sweetheart, we work alone.” She raises an eyebrow, a judgemental look on her face. “Well, time for a change of pace. I know a good cafe near here, we can go there and I can fill you in on what I know.” She starts to walk off, confidence exuding with every step. “But we still need-” Dean starts, but she cuts him off. “Already tried to interview the family. They refused to talk, said to come back later. Already inspected the house, no signs of a breakin or anything.” Andy explains. I smile. She seems cool.


	2. Chapter 2

ANDY’S POV:

I love this cafe. I used to come here with my parents whenever we passed through Colorado. I grab a table and sit down. The boys join me, looking around, observing the restaurant. I hang my bag on the back of my chair, making sure it stays out of the way. I pick up a menu and scan it. Dean and Sam do the same. Dean immediately flips to the burgers and sandwiches. Sam glances over the salads. “So. The infamous Sam and Dean.” I say, smiling at them. “Are we as dashing as you thought?” Dean says, smirking. I roll my eyes. Jo had warned me he was a flirtatious one. Jo and I were good friends. I often stopped at the roadhouse with my family growing up, and when I wasn’t allowed to go on hunts, I stayed with Jo and her mom. 

A waiter comes over and takes our orders. Dean orders a burger, Sam orders a salad, and I order the BLT. “So, you told us you found some stuff out?” Sam asks. I nod. “Basically, the victim, Maxwell Trayton, was found murdered in his house, missing his eyes. Doors and windows all locked, no fingerprints or anything. Sounds like a typical vengeful spirit.” I explain. 

The waiter brings our food over. Dean immediately digs in, taking a giant bite of his burger. Sam shoots him a look of disgust. “Seriously, Dean?” He mutters, shaking his head. Sam takes a few forkfuls of salad and I begin to eat my sandwich. By the time I’m halfway through my meal, Dean has finished his burger. He eats faster than I thought was humanly possible.

“So, two of us should check out the morgue, the other should start researching local lore. Who wants to do what?” I ask. “Dibs on doing the research!” Dean shouts out. Sam rolls his eyes. “Seriously Dean? Dibs? What are you, five?” I chuckle. “Looks like it’s you and me at the morgue, Sam.” He nods, a small smile on his face. 

“You can’t take baby. I’m driving baby.” Dean says. “Baby? You named your car?” I raise an eyebrow. “Baby is not just a car. Baby is a ‘67 Chevrolet Impala, a work of art.” Dean announces, full of pride. I chuckle and say “Well, we can take my car then. You guys ready to head out?” They nod. Sam offers to pay the bill, but I refuse. Once he gives in and the bill is paid, we walk out to the cars. Dean gets into his car and we get into mine.

The silence is awkward as we drive. “So. Um. What’s your story?” Sam asks, nervously running his hand through his hair. “My story?” he nods. “Y’know, how you got into hunting.” He adds. “Well, my parents were both hunters. They raised me as a hunter, and I never really got the choice of doing something else.” I tell him. He gives a small laugh. “Yeah, I get that. My dad was adamant that I become a hunter. I got away for a bit, but I guess this life always pulls you back in.” 

“You got away?” I question. “Stanford. I was studying law.” He explains. “Impressive, Stanford. You must be a genius, right?” I joke. He blushes a bit. “Far from it. Just determined.” I smile at him. He smiles back. Sam’s really cute when he smiles. We chat the rest of the way to the morgue. We have a lot in common, andI really enjoy talking to him. When he talks about his favorite book, his eyes light up. I find myself watching him, admiring the way he smiles, the way he laughs. 

When we finally get to the morgue, I’m a little disappointed. I could have talked with Sam for hours. We get out of the car and head inside, and we head straight to the M.E.’s office. An old man sits at the desk, white hair a bird's nest on his head. “Can I help you?” he asks. “Yes, I’m Agent Brent, this is my partner Agent King. We need to see the body of Maxwell Trayton.” I say, lying flawlessly. Lying comes easy when you do it for a living. The coroner nods and leads us to the morgue. He pulls out the body, the metal making a terrible screeching noise.

I pull the cover back. The man on the metal table looks to be in his mid 40’s, maybe older. He’s average height, average weight, average everything. The only thing not average is the craters where his eyes should be. “Weirdest case I have ever seen. Both eyes are missing. 

Someone scratched them out, but left no evidence. Definitely an odd case.” The M.E. explains. I look at Sam. Sounds like it could be a spirit.

We study the body for a few more minutes, checking for any other oddities. When we find none, we head back to the car. Once we’re inside and sure nobody can hear us, I turn to him. “Well, it looks like our theory was right.” I sigh. “I’ll call Dean, see what he’s found.” Sam says. He dials the number and the phone rings. Dean picks up and Sam puts the phone on speaker. “We most likely have a spirit, Dean. What did you find?” 

“Well, there’s not a lot of local lore. I’m working on digging into the housing records right now.” Dean explains. “It’s probably going to take a while to go through all the records, this house is crazy old.” Sam groans. “We’ll work on it together. We’re headed back to the motel now.” I add. Sam hangs up and we begin the drive back.

We talk the whole way. It’s like we’ve known each other for ages. It’s strange when you meet someone you just… click with. It’s a good kind of strange, the once in a lifetime strange. I usually attract bad strange, but I guess I can attract good strange too.


	3. Chapter 3

SAM’S POV:

When we arrive at the motel, we head straight to the motel room. I pull out my key and unlock the door, holding it open for Andy. She walks in and looks around the room. Dean is sitting at the small wooden table in the corner, papers messily splayed out. “Hey guys.” He mumbles, scrolling on a computer, eyes close to the screen. There’s only one other chair, so I opt to sit on the bed. Andy slides into the seat and grabs some of the papers, shuffling through them.

“So. We need to start on this.” Andy says, pulling out a computer from her bag. I share the wifi password with her and she begins typing. Her fingers rush over the keyboard, eyes focused on the words she’s scrolling through.

I find myself watching Andy as she works. She’s beautiful. The way her eyes squint when she’s reading tiny text, the way she bites her lip when she’s thinking. Dean elbows me. “You’ve been reading the same page for five minutes.” Dean says, smirking. I sit up a bit and look down at the paper. “Sorry, I guess I’m just tired.” I say. “Sure. Tired.” Dean mumbles under his breath. I glare at him, a light blush appearing on my cheeks. I sneak a look at Andy. She has a small smile on her face, her eyes trained on her computer screen. I’m sure she overheard that.

I go back to reading, my eyes skimming over the words. Suddenly, Andy jumps up. “I think I found something.” She grabs her computer and brings it over, placing it on the table. I come stand behind her. “So, I was doing some research into the local history. Apparently, back in 1963, there was a woman named Juliet Adams. Story goes she caught her husband cheating, and in revenge, tore out his eyes. Nasty stuff.” she explains.

“Then shouldn’t the spirit be of the husband?” Dean asks, looking at Andy. I nod in agreement. “Here’s the thing. Her husband survived. He managed to escape. Juliet disappeared. There was a man hunt, but she was never found. The husband ended up marrying his mistress and they moved into the same house. The house that Maxwell Trayton happened to live in.” Andy finishes. Dean sighs. “If she went missing, how is she still haunting the house? And why hasn’t she awakened until now?” That’s the question of the hour.“I have no idea,” I mutter.

“We should try to talk to the family again, see if they’re open to sharing now. We should also do an EMF reading of the whole house, I only had time to do the room where he was murdered.” We agree. I stand up, my suit a little bit wrinkled. Dean changes and we head out, deciding to take two seperate cars. Andy climbs into hers and I join Dean in baby.

Dean starts the car and pulls out of the motel driveway, following behind Andy’s car. “So. Andy.” Dean says, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah. She’s nice.” Dean turns to quickly look at me. “You realize I saw you staring at her like an adoring puppy for ten minutes, right?” I shoot him a glare. “I just phased out, I wasn’t staring at her-” Dean cuts me off. “Oh please. You like her.” I shrug my shoulders. “So what if I do?” 

“Knew it.” Dean smirks. I roll my eyes at him. “Sam and Andy, sitting in a tree...” Dean sings. “Seriously? We’re not kids, Dean.” He mocks me the rest of the way to the house. When we finally pull up, I jump out of the car as fast as I can. We walk over to Andy. “We need to interview both the daughter and the mother. We also need to check the house for EMF.” Andy explains. We head to the front porch and Dean knocks on the door. After a few moments, the door opens, revealing a small, middle aged woman. Her eyes are red, her hair unkempt. 

“Hello again, Ms. Trayton. We would like to ask you some more questions.” Andy offers a sad smile. “I already told you, we weren’t there, we don’t know anything.” She tries to close the door. Dean sticks his foot in the way. “Please. We want to catch your husband’s killer. To do that, we need your help.” She hesitates. Then she opens the door, inviting us in.

She shows us to a small sitting room. She sits in an old armchair, fabric fading. The three of us squish onto the tiny couch. I sit in the middle of Andy and Dean, my large frame folded uncomfortably. Andy is almost sitting on my lap, her body pressed against mine. Dean is up against my other side, his body almost leaning over the arm as he tries to get some space.

“We would like to talk to your daughter as well, please.” Andy says. Ms. Trayton walks to the staircase. “Carol, can you come down here please?” She yells. I hear footsteps on the stairs. A young teenage girl comes down, her dyed purple hair in a loose braid down her back. She gives a small wave. She takes a seat on the arm of her mother’s chair, feet balancing on the ground. Her eyes are red as well, black circles underneath.

She eyes us with suspicion. “Hi, Carol. I’m Andy.” Andy gives her a friendly smile, her tone light. “Hi.” Carol says, her voice quiet. “So, to start, was your husband acting odd? In any way. Even the most insignificant thing can help.” Dean asks. Ms Trayton bites her lip. “He was normal. He was jumpy, but I figured it was just nerves from work.” Carol looks at her mother.

“We both know that's a lie. It wasn’t from work.” Carol is suddenly angry, her eyes narrowed. “Carol, stop. This is none of their business.” Ms. Trayton says quietly, laying a warning hand on Carol’s shoulder. Carol shrugs it off. “He’s dead. It doesn’t matter who knows anymore.” Ms. Trayton shakes her head. “Carol. Stop.” She gives it as an order, but Carol doesn’t seem to listen.

Carol stands up, crossing her arms. “My father was a bastard. He was cheating. He was cheating on my mom with my soccer coach.” she spits, her face red. Ms. Trayton looks down, her face a mixture of sadness and shame. “I-I need a minute.” Ms. Trayton says, standing up. She rushes out of the room. Carol sits in the chair, face in her hands. I look at Dean. 

“Carol. Can I ask you a question?” Carol nods weakly. “When did your mother find out that your dad was cheating?” I continue. Carol took a deep breath, looking up. “A few weeks ago. She found some texts on his phone. She didn’t tell him she found it though. He had no idea she knew.” I give her a tightlipped smile. “Your mother said he was jumpy. Could it have been from something other than the affair?” I ask. Carol opens her mouth to say something, but stops.

“If I tell you, you’ll just think I’m crazy.” She says. “I promise, we won’t think you're crazy. We’ve seen some crazy stuff of our own.” Dean explains. Carol looks at us, eyes searching. “I saw a ghost.” She says quietly. Andy reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. She brings up a picture of Juliet Adams in her pink dress. She shows it to Carol. “Did she look like this?” Carol’s eyes go wide. “That’s her. How do you have that-” I interrupt Carol. “It’s a long story. Don’t worry, we’re going to get this all sorted out. We’ll find out what’s going on. I promise.” 

SAM’S POV:

We manage to evade Carol’s questions. She knows something’s up, but she can’t figure out what. We try to talk with Ms. Trayton again, but she refuses. We decide not to push her. She’s been through enough. “Let’s talk outside.” Andy whispers. We walk outside, meeting on the front lawn. “The body has to be somewhere nearby. The question is where.” I mutter. “The thing is, if she disappeared, she would have run. She should’ve been far away from here.” Dean adds. “We need to do the EMF readings. Juliet must have come back because of Mr. Trayton cheating. That would explain the long break.” Andy says. 

I’m about to add something, but a scream rips through the air. We all run towards the house. I try the front door, but it’s locked. I slam my body against it, but it holds fast. “Hold on!” I shout. I take a few steps back and kick open the door, the wood cracking. We run inside, hands on our guns. We rush to the source of the scream.

Carol and her mother are up against the wall. In the middle of the room stands Juliet Adams. Her hair is unruly and tangled, a ghostly halo around her face. Her eyes are rimmed red, sunk into her face. Her limbs are a pale white. You can see the bones poking through

, any sign of muscle or fat gone. Her feet are bare, a faded pink dress covering her skeletal frame. I look for anything iron, anything to get rid of the spirit.

Andy moves towards the fireplace, grabbing the iron poker. She swings it at Juliet, letting out a grunt. The poker swings through Juliet and she disappears, smoke evaporating into the air. I run over to Carol and Ms. Trayton. “Are you guys ok?” I ask, looking them over for injuries. Carol gives a weak nod. “What- what the hell was that?” Ms. Trayton shrieks, her eyes wide. She looks like she might faint. 

“That was Juliet Adams.” Dean says, taking a cautious step forward. “Who?” Ms. Trayton questions, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. “Do you want to sit down?” I lead her to the couch, Carol taking a seat beside her. Both women are pale, shocked looks etched on their faces. 

“That was Juliet Adams. She’s a spirit, more specifically a vengeful spirit. She disappeared in 1963. She found her husband cheating, and, in revenge, clawed his eyes out. We don’t know how her spirit is stuck here, but we’re going to get rid of her.” I explain. “I’m going crazy.” Ms. Trayton mumbles, rubbing her eyes. Andy kneels down in front of them. “I know this is shocking. I know this is scary. Monsters are real. They exist. But that’s why we’re here. We won’t let them hurt you.” Ms. Trayton looks up. 

“You're not FBI, are you?” Carol says quietly. Andy shakes her head. “We’re hunters. We kill spirits and other monsters like these.” Dean tells her. “Other monsters? You mean it's not just ghosts?” Ms. Trayton asks, her voice wobbling. “We can discuss all that later. For now, we need to get you and your daughter out of here so we can take care of Juliet.” I say. Ms. Trayton nods. 

The two women head upstairs to pack. “Once they leave, I need to change. I can’t hunt in this skirt, I can barely move my legs.” Andy huffs. I bite back a laugh. “Agreed. I hate suits.” Dean mutters, loosening his tie. Carol and her mother come back down the stairs a few minutes later, suitcases in hand. We walk them out. I reassure them that we will get everything fixed up. Both of them are still in shock, and I don’t blame them. “I’ll head to my motel across town, let’s meet back here.” Andy says. I nod and she heads to her car. I join Dean in Baby. 

“How the hell are we going to find what’s tying Juliet to the house? It could be literally anything.” I sigh. “We just have to guess. We’ll figure it out, we’ve succeeded on less.” Dean shrugs. This is going to take forever. On the bright side, the longer this case drags on, the longer I get to spend with Andy.


	4. Chapter 4

ANDY’S POV:

As soon as I get back to my motel room, I change. I hate wearing formal clothes. I can barely walk in that skirt, and the heels make my feet hurt. I don’t get how people can wear this all day. I have the utmost respect for women who can survive in this. When I take off my heels, I sigh in relief. I shake them out, trying to return blood flow to my toes. I unzip my skirt and let it fall to the floor. There’s a line on my stomach from where it hugged my waist too tight. I take off my blazer and unbutton my shirt, tossing those onto the floor as well.

I dig through my duffle bag, looking for a clean pair of clothes. I decide on a black short sleeved crop top that lands just above my belly button. It hugs my curves. I always feel good in this shirt. It gives me confidence, makes me feel beautiful. I slip on a pair of black jeans and a pair of black boots. I grab my red flannel and tie it around my waist, chinching it tight. My knife goes in my boot, a small dagger goes in my bra, the EMF detector goes in my pants pocket, and my gun and flashlight goes in my belt holster. I reapply my red lipstick and I’m ready to go.

On the drive back, I observe the town. It's tiny, lots of mom and pop shops. I see families wandering around, eating at restaurants. I see a Mom and Dad swing a little girl in between them. My heart hurts. The emptiness comes back. My head fills with memories of my parents and me. At one point, I was that little girl. I had one parent on each side, holding me up. Now, they’re gone and I’m all on my own.

I shake away my thoughts, choosing to turn on the radio instead. If I focus on the pain for too long, I’ll sink. I need to focus on the case, focus on helping people. I turn up the volume, attempting to drown out my thoughts. 

I finally pull up to the house and climb out. I see the Winchesters getting out of their car, heading towards their trunk. I walk over to them, giving a small wave. I take a peek in their trunk. “Geez, you guys are loaded.” I mutter. Their trunk is full of various weapons, stacked haphazardly on one another. Sam chuckles a bit, grabbing one of the guns. “Do you have anything on you?” Dean asks, looking for an obvious weapon.

I show him my gun and the knife in my boot. “I have a gun and two knives, I think I’ll be good.” Dean raises an eyebrow. “Two knives? Dare I ask where the other is?” I smirk at him. “The only time you’ll see that knife is if you piss me off, playboy.” Dean rolls his eyes and gives a short laugh. “You ready to go kill Juliet?” I pause. “Technically double kill? Whatever. Let’s go burn a body.” I begin the walk to the house, the boys following behind me.

Once we get inside, we start to form a plan. “Okay, we should split off into two groups, one should search the top floor, one should search the bottom.” I explain. The boys nod. “I’ll do the top floor, you guys do the bottom.” Dean says. Dean walks upstairs, so Sam and I search the ground floor. We search the living room, kitchen, and bathroom, but we get nothing. “All that’s left is the bedroom.” I mutter.

When we walk into the bedroom, it’s rather mundane. It’s the typical guest bedroom, neat and orderly, a layer of dust on everything. I trace the outside of the room, moving my EMF detector as I go. I pass a blank wall and my EMF detector goes crazy. I frown. There’s nothing here, it’s a wall. I whack it a bit, but it doesn’t change. Sam comes over, eyebrows furrowed. “What the hell?” He mumbles, studying the wall. I move the detector up and down, trying to find where it’s strongest. 

“Hold on.” Sam grabs my wrist gently and leads the detector down to the heating grate. It’s an old metal grate, maybe two feet by two feet. It’s rusty, the metal almost black. I look at Sam. “She’s in the wall.” We say at the same time. “Dean! Get down here!” Sam yells. I hear Dean’s feet stomping down the staircase. He runs in, hand on his gun. “We think we know where she is.” Sam explains, pointing towards the heating grate. 

I pull the knife out of my boot and use it to unscrew the grate from the wall, pulling it away with a loud screech. I cough as dust comes billowing out. “This hasn’t been used in ages.” Dean says softly. “Someone has to go down there.” Sam tells us. Both boys turn to look at me. “No. I’m not going down there.” I cross my arms. “You’re the only one who will fit.” Dean replies, shrugging his shoulders.

As much as I hate it, Dean is right. I untie my flannel and hand it to Dean. “You guys owe me a drink after this.” I grumble. I get on all fours and start to climb in, coughing as more dust is disturbed. This is going to be fun.

SAM’S POV:

I’m worried about Andy going in there alone. Who knows what could be down there? “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I ask Dean. “It’s the best plan we got,” he replies. I lean down, peeking inside the grate. I can faintly see Andy’s form. “Stop looking at my ass, Sam.” Andy shouts, her voice echoing on the metal walls. I stand up hurriedly, my face bright red. “I wasn’t- I wouldn’t-” I stutter out. Dean chuckles a bit, elbowing me. I run a hand through my hair, willing my blush to fade away. 

“Hey! I think I found something!” Andy calls out. I hear scuffling. She pauses before yelling out. “I didn’t find something. I found someone.”


	5. Chapter 5

ANDY’S POV:

Well. I guess we know where Juliet went. There's a very icky looking skeleton leaning up against the wall, a ripped pink dress covering her body. The dress is exactly the same as the one in Juliet’s photo, but with mold and what appear to be blood stains. “You have to bring her out here!” Dean shouts. I would really just like to salt and burn her here, but if I light a fire from inside a house, the whole house is going to burn down. Just common sense really.

I gently grab the shoulders of the skeleton and start to pull, backing up out of the vent. Her head falls on my shoulder and I flinch. I am not a fan of dead bodies. Yes, I deal with them on a daily basis, but that doesn’t mean I want to be hugging one. I slowly make my way out of the vent, shuffling on my hands and knees, one arm wrapped around Juliet’s skeleton.

When I finally get out, I drop the skeleton and stand up, wiping the dust off my clothing. “That was the worst experience ever. Not doing that again.” I mutter. The boys look down at the skeleton, studying it. “She must have hidden in the vents and gotten stuck.” Sam muses, shaking his head. “Well, let’s get to burning.” Dean says, grabbing the skeleton. He hauls it to the fire place, tossing it inside. “Sam, go grab the salt. I got the lighter.” Dean instructs. Sam heads to the kitchen and returns with a bottle of salt, pouring it over the body.

Dean flicks on the lighter. “Goodbye, Juliet.” He doesn’t get a chance to toss the lighter. Juliet comes flying through the wall, throwing Dean away from the body. The lighter falls to the floor, the fire going out. “Dean!” Sam shouts, running towards his brother. I grab the iron poker from next to the fireplace and swing at her, but she dodges it. “Look, I get that you're pissed, but it’s time to move on.” I grunt, swinging again. This time, I hit her. She disappears in a cloud of smoke. I run to the lighter and pick it up.

I light it and throw it into the fireplace, the flame igniting. I breathe a sigh of relief. “We got her.” Sam helps Dean up and they walk over. “You okay, Dean?” I ask. He nods, a hand on his head. “I’ve been hit harder.” I smile at him. “We should probably let Ms. Trayton know it’s safe to come home.” Sam pulls out his phone, dialing her number. He talks with her for a few minutes, then hangs up.

“We should dump the ashes out back.” I say. The boys nod in agreement. We grab a sheet from the linen closet and wrap the remains up, carrying it outside. Dean grabs a shovel from the car and we dig a hole, tossing the ashes inside. We cover the grave, patting the dirt down so it looks less noticeable. We walk out to our cars, packing up all of our stuff. 

It’s time to say our goodbyes. “Well, it was nice working with you boys.” I say, sticking my hands in my jean pockets. “Yeah. Right back atcha.” Sam runs a hand through his hair. I get a sudden burst of confidence. “Let me give you my number. In case you ever need backup or something.” Sam’s eyes widen. “Oh, um, yeah. That would be great.” He stutters, pulling out his phone. I type in my number and hand it back to him. “I’ll see you around, Winchester.” I wave and walk away, stepping into my car. 

I look in the rearview mirror as I drive away, and I notice that Sam is staring down at his phone and grinning like an idiot. Maybe he likes me too.


	6. Chapter 6

SAM’S POV:

It’s been a month since we worked with Andy. We text everyday though. I type something on my phone. “You texting her again?” Dean asks, trying to peek over at the screen. I click my phone off and pull it away from him. “Shut up Dean.” I mumble, looking out the window. He smirks. “I knew it. You two have been texting non-stop. Do I sense a budding romance?” I elbow him. “We’re just texting. We’re friends, that’s it.” I insist. “Mhm. Just friends. Sure.” Dean mumbles, returning his eyes to the road. As if on cue, my phone buzzes. I pull it out of my pocket and see that Andy is calling me. I press answer and put the phone against my ear.

“Hey, Andy. What’s going on?” I ask, trying to seem calm. In reality, I’m insanely nervous. “Hi Sam. So, I could use your guy’s help. I found a vamp nest and I can’t take it out on my own. You guys interested?” I look at Dean and repeat what she said. Dean shrugs, his way of saying yes. “Sure. Nothing better to do. Where you at?” I question. “I’m right outside of Iowa. Some small town called Dyersville.” I glance at Dean. “We’re only a couple hours away. We can be there by dinner time.” I tell her. “Perfect. I’ll see you guys then. Meet at Barry’s diner.” She hangs up and I put my phone in my pocket.

The rest of the drive there, I’m thinking over what to say when I see her. I haven’t been this nervous since- Oh shit. Well. This is bad. I haven’t felt this way since Jess. That means…. That means I might like her. And I mean like like her. I’ve only met her once, but I guess that was enough to make me develop feelings. I feel like I’m in highschool again. I have butterflies, I stutter over my words, I blush like crazy. And apparently Dean knew I had a crush before I did.

A few hours later, we pull into town. “Look up the nearest motel, will ya Sammy?” Dean asks. I nod and pull out my phone and do a quick search. “There’s only one in town. Just take this street and turn left on Maple.” Dean follows my directions and we pull into the parking lot. There’s only two other cars there, neither of which belong to Andy. She must already be at the diner. We park and pay for a room, dropping our stuff off inside. I pull up the directions and we make our way to the restaurant. 

The diner is cute. It has a family feel, with old fashioned red booths and silver tables. There are about twenty people here, mostly families. I hear laughing from somewhere, and the sound of silverware clinking. I glance around the diner until I see Andy, sitting in a corner booth. She waves at us and we walk over, weaving between tables. I slide into the booth next to Dean, squishing myself up so I didn’t invade Andy’s foot space.

“Nice to see you again, boys.” She looks beautiful. Her hair is tied back in a low ponytail, a few strands of hair loose and framing her face. She has on a blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans, her black boots covering the cuffs. Her red flannel covers it all, the black buttons winking in the light. Her lips are colored the same bright red as the first time we met. 

I clear my throat. “So, what’s the deal?” I ask. “I found a nest, maybe twelve vamps. Right outside of town, I’m surprised that we haven’t picked up on it before now.” She explains. “We can hit it tomorrow once they’re asleep. We need to get some dead man’s blood, so we’ll have to stop by the morgue-” Andy cuts Dean off. “Already got it. I have about a pint of it sitting in my car.” I raise an eyebrow in surprise. 

“What’s been going on with you two?” She asks, leaning forward. “Well, we dealt with a werewolf, two spirits, and a demon.” Dean tells her. “Impressive. I took down a couple spirits and a wendigo. Nothing too big.” She leans back, crossing her arms. A waiter comes over and takes our orders. I order my typical salad, Dean orders what might as well be a heart attack with a bun, and Andy orders a burger with some fries.

“So, I figure that we’re staying at the same motel, right?” I ask. She nods. “The only one in town. Have to warn you, the hot water runs out fast. Also, the beds might as well be filled with rocks.” I chuckle. We chat for a while longer, continuing while we eat. Dean and Andy argue about which AC/DC song is the best, Andy declaring that Back In Black as the winner. Andy and I talk about books and ancient lore. Dean calls us nerds, so Andy flips him off, smirking at him. Once we finish our food, I pay the bill. I insist, saying that Andy paid the bill last time.

We go our separate ways, meeting up again at the motel. We say our goodnights and head to our rooms. I change for bed and lay down, looking up at the ceiling. There’s only one thing on my mind. Andy.


	7. Chapter 7

ANDY’S POV:

Pajamas are the most comfortable clothes, no question about it. I love my oversized t-shirt and soft pajama pants. They almost make sleeping in a motel bed bearable. Almost. At least the sheets are clean. I’m about to fall asleep when I hear a loud bang, coming from my bathroom. I cautiously get up and grab my knife off of my bedside table, creeping towards the bathroom. I kick open the door and bear my knife, ready to stab who or whatever is hiding in my dingy motel bathroom. I look around. The bathroom is empty. “What the hell?” I mutter, searching for the source of the noise. 

I hear groaning. I look up. The ceiling is caving in and there’s a giant wet spot forming. “SHIT-” I don’t move fast enough. The plaster breaks and water comes pouring down on me, freezing cold and dirty. I scream, the cold shocking me. The water floods out of the open bathroom door, drenching the carpet. “Oh my God.” I mumble, water dripping down my face. I grab my duffle bag, grab my shoes, and run out of the room, heading straight towards the motel office. I’m going to give the owner a piece of my mind and then some.

But when I get to the office, the door is locked and all the lights are out. “For fuck’s sake, what am I supposed to do now?” I’m soaking wet, freezing, and without a room to stay in. Perfect, just perfect. How am I supposed to explain to the boys why- the boys. They’re here at the same motel. I can ask to stay in their room for tonight. I walk over to their room and knock. The door opens and Sam stands there, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Hi.” I say, waving at him. His eyes go wide when he sees what I look like. “What happened?” 

SAM’S POV:

I’m awakened by a knock at the door. Dean stirs, groaning. “Not it.” He mumbles. I roll my eyes but I get up, opening the door. In front of me stands Andy, soaking wet, duffle bag and boots in hand. She looks like she just fell into a pool, except this motel doesn’t have a pool and she’s fully clothed. “What happened?” I ask, looking her over. “Long story. Can I come in?” I nod and move to the side, and she enters the room. Dean sits up, trying to see what’s going on. When he sees Andy, he asks the same question I did. 

“Basically, a pipe burst in my room, so I can’t sleep there. Can I stay with you guys for the night?” she asks. “Yeah, that’s fine. But why are you soaking wet?” Dean says, a confused look on his face. “I was under the pipe when it burst. Now, can I please use your shower ASAP? That water was brown and water is definitely not supposed to be brown.” I nod and she drops her duffle bag to the floor, grabbing a long pink shirt and a pair of pajama shorts. She runs to the bathroom and I hear the water start to run.

Dean looks at me. “So. That just happened.” He says. I sit on the bed. “I guess I’ll sleep on the floor. She probably won’t want to share a bed.” I grab a pillow and the blanket on the foot of the bed, laying it out on the floor. A few minutes later, Andy comes out, looking much more dry and happy. She’s wearing her long pink shirt and her shorts, and she looks… well she looks relaxed, not like she just got attacked by a leaky pipe. She walks over and looks at the blanket on the floor. “Sam, you're not sleeping on the ground.” I shake my head. “It’s fine, really.” She crosses her arms. “Sam. I’m the one crashing here, not you. I’m not forcing you out of your bed. I’ll sleep on the floor. It honestly might be better than these crappy motel mattresses.” Dean watches the two of us argue, amusement on his face. We argue for at least three more minutes, insisting that the other should have the bed.

I guess Dean must have enough of our arguing because he shouts “Just share the damn bed!” I look at Andy and she shrugs. “Why not.” She climbs into the bed, crawling under the covers. Dean gives me a thumbs up and winks. I flip him off. I get into the bed next to Andy, making sure to put enough space between us. Dean flicks the light off and heads back to bed.

A few minutes later, I can tell that Andy is asleep. Her breathing is slow, her chest rising and falling. She shifts a little and rolls over, facing me while I lay on my side. Her eyes are closed, the mesmerizing dark green covered. Suddenly, she came closer, wrapping an arm around me, her head digging into my chest. I freeze, scared that she will wake up. She stays still, a small smile on her face.

I can’t move, not wanting to wake her. I relax, closing my eyes. I don’t mind having her next to me, feeling her curled against my body. I can feel her heartbeat against my chest, her breath fanning over my skin. I let sleep overtake me, my dreams solely of Andy.


	8. Chapter 8

ANDY’S POV:

My eyes slowly open. I’m warm. Someone’s holding me. It’s nice.

Wait. Someone is holding me. Who the hell is holding me? All of last night comes rushing back. I look up a bit. Sam’s head is resting on the pillow next to me, his eyes closed, still asleep. I look down. His arm is wrapped around me, holding me against his chest. I’m pretty sure I was cuddled up to him like this all night. Holy shit. Maybe if I can squeeze out of his grip, he’ll never have to know this happened. I honestly just want to stay here though. I don’t want to move, to end this moment. I want to go back to sleep, stay here for a few moments longer.

“Awww, look at the two love birds!” Dean shouts out. I make it look like I’m waking up, rubbing my eyes. Sam rises, his hair a messy halo around his head. He yawns a bit and looks around. “Good morning.” He mumbles, straightening his shirt. Dean looks between the two of us, a smirk on his face. “What’re you smiling about?” I say, glaring at him. “Nothing. It’s just, you two were cuddled up like a married couple.” He chuckles. Sam blushes, hands combing through his hair.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” I cut him off. “It’s fine. Really. Don’t worry about it.” I give him a smile. He nervously smiles back, the blush on his cheeks clear against his skin. I crawl out of the bed, stretching my muscles. “I’m gonna change, then let’s get some breakfast. I’m starving.” I unzip my duffle and pull out a pair of black jeans, the knees ripped. They weren’t originally ripped, but I was dealing with a werewolf and one of the knees got ripped, so I ripped the other one to match. I also pull out a back t-shirt with the white AC/DC logo on it. 

“Nice shirt.” Dean says. I smile at him and make my way to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I get dressed, brush my hair, brush my teeth, and put on my lipstick. I don’t necessarily need the lipstick, I just feel better when I’m wearing it. Makes me feel more badass. I pack up my toiletries, making sure everything is in place. “I’m coming out. You guys decent?” I shout. The boys say yes, so I unlock the bathroom and walk out. The boys are dressed, their flannels pulled over their shirts. 

“Let’s get some breakfast. I’m starving.” As if on cue, my stomach rumbles quietly. We leave the room, deciding to take separate cars. The drive on the way to the diner is silent, my mind replaying the last twenty four hours. I was expecting the Winchesters to be a bit more gruff and scary, but I was happily surprised. I mean, the boys look tough, but Dean is really chill and Sam is a sweet, extremely tall nerd. My thoughts drift back to Sam. His smile. The way he laughs. How I liked being held by him. I have to admit, I’m completely smitten. 

It’s terrible.

When I arrive at the diner, I hop out and walk inside, meeting the boys at one of the booths. We order some food and begin to discuss our plan to take out the vamps. “So, I scouted out the nest before you guys came. It’s an old farmhouse, falling to pieces. Looks like it hasn’t been fixed up since the forties.” I tell them. I give them all the information I have about the farmhouse and the nest, which isn’t a whole lot.

We finish our breakfast and head out to the cars. I give them the directions to the farm house and we begin the drive there. When we arrive at the nest, we park and grab our weapons. I share the dead man’s blood with them, coating their daggers as well as mine. “You guys ready to go?” I ask. The boys nod. We silently stalk our way to the farm house, trying to make as little noise as possible. The vamps should be asleep, but if we wake them up, things get a lot harder. I carefully push open the door, and the hinges creak. I flinch, waiting for the vampires to wake up. They stay still. I breathe a sigh of relief.

Sam and Dean follow me in, knives bared. I gesture to show that I’ll take the four vamps nearest to me. I stalk forward, standing above the first vamp. I bring my knife up and slam it down, severing the head from the neck. Blood hits my face and I grimace. I move to the next vamp, and I’m just about to raise my sword over my head when I hear Sam scream “Andy! Behind you!” I whirl around, but not fast enough. The vamp throws me against the wall, my body cracking the molding wood. I groan, pain radiating from my back. 

I get up, wielding my knife. I charge at the vamp, and he grabs my arms. I kick his stomach and he falls back, and I use that opportunity to get the upper hand and pin him down. His claws come out and he scratches my arm and I recoil, biting my lip at the pain. He grabs my neck, choking me. I bring my machete up and slice off his head, the hands around my neck going limp. I savour the quick moment of relief before heading to kill another one. 

I look across the room and see Sam taking out another one, his lips set in determination. Dean is taking on two at once, his shirt covered in blood. I can only hope it’s not his. Another vamp sneaks up behind Sam, and I run at him, tackling him to the ground. I take off his head, and Sam finishes off the one in front of him. Dean takes out the last one, sweat running down his face. We’re all out of breath and covered in blood, but that seems relatively normal for what we do. “We got them all?” Dean asks. “Yup. You guys okay?” The boys nod.

Sam looks at me and his brow furrows. “You’re bleeding.” I look down at my arm, and he’s right. The cut that the vampire left is rather deep. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, and the pain is slowly starting to return. “Well. That’s not good.” I say, putting some pressure on the wound. We walk outside, closing the barn door behind us. I look towards my car, and I see someone in the front seat. “FUCK!” I shout, racing towards my car. The boys follow behind me, but we’re too late. The car squeals away, dust spraying up as it leaves. 

“We must have missed one.” Sam says. I give a scream of frustration. “Seriously? What is it with my luck this week?” I yell. Sam comes up to me. “We should get that cut fixed up. We can figure out what to do about your car later.” I know he’s right. I climb into the back seat of their car, trying my best to keep blood from getting on the seats. I swear, my luck just keeps getting worse.


	9. Chapter 9

TW: Man being gross

SAM’S POV:

“This is going to hurt.” I say. Andy nods. “I know, just get it over with.” I unscrew the top of the alcohol and Andy pulls up her sleeve. “Ready?” she nods. I pour the alcohol over her cut and she hisses, her jaw tensing. “You ok?” I ask. “Been better.” Dean hands me the thread and needle for the stitches. I sit down on the bed next to her, and I lean in. “Do you want to bite down on something or-” she waves her hand. “I’ll be fine.” I really don’t want to hurt her, but we need to stitch this up. 

I ease the needle into her skin and her eyes scrunch up in pain. I try to finish the stitches as fast as I can. Every time she makes a noise of pain, my heart hurts. Once the stitches are done, she falls back on the bed and splays out her arms. “I need a nap and then a drink.” she mumbles. “We have no plans…” Dean says. “I’m taking a shower and then I’m taking a nap. If either of you wake me up, I will personally send you back to hell.” She walks into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

A few minutes later, the water stops. “Fuck! I forgot to grab clothes! Can one of you throw some in here?” she shouts. “She’s your love interest, you do it.” Dean whispers. I roll my eyes, but I stand up. I walk over to her bag and pull out a shirt and a pair of sweatpants. I grab a bra and a pair of underwear, stuffing it on the bottom of the pile. I feel awkward even looking at it. I knock on the bathroom door. “I’m coming in!” I shout. 

I cover my eyes and open the door, feeling around for the sink. I drop her clothes on top and leave the room, Andy yelling thank you after me. “So? Did you see anything?” Dean smirks and raises his eyebrows. “No, Dean. I respected her privacy and kept my eyes closed like a decent human being. If I’m going to see someone without clothes on, it’s going to be consensual.” 

The door opens and Andy walks out, dressed in the clothes I brought her. “I’m exhausted and I need a nap.” She mutters. She climbs into the bed and lays down, closing her eyes. “She has the right idea.” Dean says, laying down in his bed. “I’m going to shower, you guys get some rest.” I don’t get a reply. Both are fast asleep. 

ANDY’S POV:

The bar is bustling. The crowd is thick, the noise close to overwhelming. We grab a table near the back where it’s quieter. “I need a beer, ASAP.” Dean says. “I can go grab them, I’ll be right back.” I stand up, pushing my chair out. I straighten my dress, a black cocktail dress. It’s tight, my bust just barely peeking out over the top. I feel amazing in this dress, I feel attractive. This is the kind of dress you wear to seduce someone. And maybe I’m hoping to seduce someone tonight, a certain hunter.

I head to the bar, carefully moving between people. I give the bartender our orders, and sit on a bar stool to wait. I hear creaking as a man comes to sit next to me, leaning his arm on the counter. “Hey there, beautiful.” He slurs his words, the alcohol clear on his breath. I have to fight the urge to gag. “Hi.” I say curtly, turning so I’m looking away from him. “What’re you doing here all alone? Surely someone must have scooped you up by now.” I gesture towards Dean and Sam. “I’m not here alone. Please buzz off, I really don’t want to have to stab you.” 

The man looks shocked for a second, but then he gives me a smirk. “Sassy. I like that.” I roll my eyes. “I’m not interested. Take a hint.” I hiss. The man scoots closer, and our knees touch. I can feel his breath on my face, and I lean back a bit. “C’mon, baby. Loosen up a bit.” he places a hand on my thigh, and I push it away. “Touch me again and I’ll take a finger.” The man is either too drunk to understand or too dumb, because he places his hand on my thigh again, slowly moving it upwards.

I push him away, standing up. “Fuck off, okay? I said no.” The man glares at me. “I’m trying to be nice. Can’t you take a compliment?” He says loudly. “It’s not a compliment to keep touching and harassing me.” The man stalks toward me, grabbing my arm. I’m about to pull out a knife and stab him, but someone pushes him away from me. “She said no, asshole. Leave her alone.” Sam stands in between the man and I, Dean off to the side.

“Why’re you protecting her? You want in on the action? We can share, I bet the slut would like that-” and that’s when the fighting starts.


	10. Chapter 10

SAM’S POV:

This guy is clearly annoying her. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but her face says it all. I’m about to get up and walk over, but Dean pulls me down. “She can handle it.” I know he’s right. The guy scoots closer, his knee touching hers. Anger flares in me. His hand moves to her thigh, and I see red. He shouldn’t be touching her. Dean sees me watching, a glare on my face. “Somebody’s jealous…” he mumbles. “I’m not jealous, Dean. I just don’t like that guy touching her.” Dean smirks. “That’s jealousy, dumbass.” I ignore him, my eyes trained on Andy.

She hits his hand away, but he puts it right back, this time sliding it upwards. She pushes him away and stands up, and she yells something at him. He yells back. Then he grabs her arm. I’ve had enough. I stand up and push my way to the front of the bar and rip his dirty hands off of her. I move in between her and him, making sure to take full advantage of my height. “She said no, asshole. Leave her alone.” I growl.

“Why’re you protecting her? You want in on the action? We can share, I bet the slut would like that-” anger rushes through my veins. My fist goes flying, hitting him square in the face. He stumbles back, catching himself by grabbing a table. The man balances himself and comes charging at me, punching my jaw. I punch him back, getting him in the stomach. He keels over and I knee his head. He falls to the ground, a groan emanating from his lips.

I grab him by his shirt and pull him up, staring him straight in the eyes. “If you ever come near her again, I will kill you. Understand?” the man frantically nods. I drop him to the ground and he scurries away. People are staring, and some have their phones out. I turn towards Andy. “Are you okay?” I ask, my anger fading. “Yeah, I’m fine. But you're not.” she points to my fist and I look down. I have blood on my knuckles from punching the guy.

“Guys, we should get out of here.” Dean says, gesturing to all the people watching us. We nod in agreement and head out. We’re a bit away from the bar when Andy stops and turns to me. “You didn’t need to do that, Sam.” I run a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t like his hands all over you, and when he said those things, my anger just took over, I’m really sorr-” she cuts me off. “It’s ok Sam. I just wanted to say thank you. If that guy had kept going he would have lost a lot more than his dignity.” 

I chuckle a bit. “You two love birds ready to go? I feel a bit awkward standing here watching this.” Dean says. I flip him off and I feel the blush return to my cheeks. Andy rolls her eyes and climbs into the backseat of the car. I climb into the passenger seat and Dean starts the car. We make a short stop at the corner store and pick up a pack of beers, then return to the hotel. Andy changes out of her dress into a pair of Pjs and I change into a new shirt and some sweats. 

Dean flicks on the TV and surfs through a couple of channels before landing on some sort of old black and white movie. I pass out beers and sit next to Andy on the bed. The movie is rather terrible, but I don’t mind. I’m happy just to be here. I feel comfortable, the world feels right for just a moment, like Andy has always been here. She fits right in, like a puzzle piece I didn’t know I was missing. 

After an hour or so, I feel Andy lay her head on my shoulder. I sneak a look down at her. Her eyes are half lidded, her sleepiness evident. I don’t say anything, I just let her eyes close as she rests on my shoulder. “Is she asleep?” Dean whispers. I nod. Dean clicks off the TV and climbs into bed. I gently ease Andy down, pulling the covers back. She mumbles something, but she rolls over and goes right back to sleep. I climb in next to her and pull the covers up. Just like the first night, she rolls into me, wrapping an arm over my chest. 

I allow my eyes to close, sleep coming quickly.


	11. Chapter 11

ANDY’S POV:

The diner food is greasy but delicious. I could eat waffles like this every day. “So, what’s the plan?” Dean asks, taking another forkful of his french toast. “I don’t know. I might hitchhike, might steal a car and commit a felony. I’ll decide after breakfast.” I don’t usually stay in one place for long. I would either sleep in my car or in a motel, but I don’t have a car or a way to travel anywhere. Not an ideal situation. “Do you have somewhere we can drive you, like a house or something?” Sam asks. I shake my head no. “I usually just head wherever there might be a case. My car was technically my home.” I frown a little at this. 

Sam looks at me and runs a hand through his hair. “Okay. This might sound a little forward, and I promise, we’re not trying to be weird-” I interrupt him. “Just spit it out, Sam.” I chuckle. “Well. We have a bunker, and you’re welcome to stay there until you figure things out.” My eyes go wide. “Seriously?” Dean nods yes. “The bunker is huge. There’s more than enough space.” he explains. “That would honestly be amazing. Also, bunker? Like from the cold war or something?” The boys explain about the bunker and the men of letters. I had heard about them once or twice from my parents, but I didn’t know much about them. I thought they were a myth.

“I’ll probably only have to stay for a little while. I can’t thank you guys enough.” I’m relieved. I had no idea what I was going to do. I could ask to stay at the roadhouse, but the new owner isn’t very friendly. I was going to try and hitchhike, but staying with Sam and Dean seems like a much better option. “Are you guys really okay with this?” I ask. “Yup. Believe it or not, we actually enjoy your company.” Dean says. I smile at this. It’s nice to be wanted.

Once we finish with breakfast, we head out to the car. I climb into the backseat again and the guys climb into the front. Dean turns on some music and I bop my head to the beat. For the first few hours, we chat about this and that. They tell me about Castiel, about the bunker, about some of the idiotic stuff they’ve done. We get lunch at a fast food restaurant, a burger joint. 

“Stop stealing my fries, Sam!” I laugh, pulling my carton away from him. “Awww, c’mon, I’m hungry!” he whines. “Fine. You can have one fry.” I hand him one fry and he pumps his fist, sticking the fry in his mouth. I see a field of cows and point out at one. “Look! Cows!” I shout. “Do you mean future burgers?” Dean says. I whack him lightly on the head. 

After another hour or so, I decide to take a nap. The back seat has no seat belt, so I lay down flat on the seat. One good thing about being short is that I can sleep pretty much anywhere. I can almost lay flat on the seats. I close my eyes and let the gentle rocking of the car lull me into sleep. 

When I wake up, I hear talking. I’m about to blink open my eyes, but then I hear my name. I keep my eyes shut, pretending to still be asleep. “I’m glad she’s coming to stay with us.” Sam says softly. “Me too. She’s a nice girl.” Dean replies. There’s a moment of silence before Sam speaks again. “I really like her, Dean.” My heart skips a beat. He likes me? Like likes me? “I know. You’re pretty obvious about it. The way you stare at her explains it all.” Dean chuckles. “It’s just… I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time. And whenever someone gets close to me, they die. I can’t let that happen to her.” Sam’s voice is sad, the words heavy. 

“Sammy, she likes you too. I can tell. Don’t let her get away, or you’ll always regret it.” This advice is surprising coming from Dean. He doesn’t strike me as the philosophical type. “How do I tell her? She’ll just want to run away.” I want to sit up, tell him that I like him back, but I stay silent. “Trust me, Sammy. She looks at you the same way you look at her. She likes you.” I hear one of them heave a deep sigh. I assume it’s Sam. “I hope you're right.” he says.

I wait a few minutes, and once the conversation is clearly over, I blink open my eyes and sit up. “Hello, sleeping beauty.” Dean looks at me through the rearview mirror. I give him a smile. I run my fingers through my hair to smooth it down, my fingers getting caught on some of the knots. I look out the window and see literally nothing. It’s emptiness in every direction. “Where the hell are we? Mars?” I ask. “Welcome to Kansas. We’re only a few minutes out from the bunker.” Sam explains. 

When we pull up, I’m shocked by how big the bunker is on the outside. I knew they said it was big, but I wasn’t expecting it to be this big. Dean parks the car in a giant garage. There are several other cars and a few motorcycles, all shiny and clean. The boys lead me into the main room, and my eyes widen. The walls are lined with books, the ceiling towers over me. Tables are layed out, maps and papers spread out haphazardly. There are several artifacts in glass cases and on stands, things that look like they should be in museums. “Wow.” I say quietly.

Sam smiles at my awe. “Welcome to the bunker, Andy.”


	12. Chapter 12

SAM’S POV:

Dean and I show Andy around the bunker, showing her where everything is. She’s amazed by the bunker, slowly taking everything in. I lead her down a hall, and point out where our bedrooms are. I open the door to the bedroom next to mine and she walks inside. “I guess this is my room, right?” I nod. Andy places her bag down at the foot of her bed. She sits down on the mattress and groans. “I haven’t slept on a real mattress in years.” She stands up and takes a look around. “Sam! Cas is here!” Dean shouts. I walk out with Andy, and we head to the main hall.

Cas is standing next to Dean, his outfit the same as usual, a ratty trench coat on top of his white button down and blue tie. He turns when he hears us come in. “Hello Sam.” his eyes land on Andy. “Andy, this is my boyfriend Cas, the one I told you about. Cas, this is Andy.” She gives him a smile and sticks out her hand. Cas shakes it, studying her. His eyes land on the bandage around her arm. “I can fix that.” He says. “What?” Cas places his hand on it and her cut. His hand glows for a moment, and Andy looks on in awe. “It’s done.” He removes his hand and Andy slowly unwinds her bandage. The cut is gone, not even a scar left in its wake. 

“How did you do that?” She asks, gently touching the site where the cut once was. “I’m an angel. I just used my grace.” Cas said, as if it should be obvious information. “That’s pretty awesome.” Andy pulls down her sleeve, smiling at Cas. “I put a frozen pizza in the oven, it should be done soon.” Dean says. “Sounds good.” Andy replies. We sit down at the large dinner table, and Dean brings out some beers.

“So, Cas, is it true that this idiot stabbed you the first time he met you?” Andy asks, gesturing at Dean. “What, this crazy powerful guy comes in and I’m not supposed to stab him?” Dean cries out. “I understand that it is not human custom to stab people upon first meeting them. It was rather rude.” Andy laughs at this. Her laugh is beautiful. Her eyes light up, she smiles. She’s stunning. “Sam.” Dean nudges me, and I snap out of my trance. “Hm. What?” Dean has a smirk on his face. “You were pulling a Cas and staring intensely at Andy.” He chuckles. “I just got lost in thought, sorry.”

Cas stares intensely at Dean. “I don’t stare intensely.” Cas says. We all glance at each other. “Yes you do.” Dean replies. Cas frowns. “Oh, we’re just pulling your leg Cas.” Andy says apologetically. Cas looks at her in confusion. “No you're not. My leg is right here, no one is pulling on it.” Andy is about to explain, but Dean waves his hand to cut her off. “He doesn’t get sayings.” 

The timer in the kitchen beeps, and Dean gets up to go get the pizza. He brings it back out and we all start to eat. We spend the rest of the night talking, sipping drinks and laughing. We stay up until about midnight. I learn a lot about Andy. I learn that she used to want to be a vet, that she’s scared of the ocean, that she knows how to kill someone using a pen. She talks a bit about her parents, how she traveled and hunted with them. How she killed her first werewolf at thirteen, how the first monster she fought was a vengeful spirit. With every new thing I learn about her, the more I fall in love. 

Love is a strong word. But I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s like from the moment I met her, we clicked. It’s like I’ve known her all my life. It’s like we were meant to meet. It sounds cheesy, but it’s true. Something about her draws me in and makes me want to stay. Usually I would fight back, but right now, all I want to do is give in.


	13. Chapter 13

SAM’S POV:

Someone is cooking. I knew it as soon as I woke up. I don’t know who’s cooking, but whatever they’re making, it smells good. As soon as I change, I walk out of my room and into the kitchen. I see Andy standing in front of the oven pulling out a batch of muffins, Cas observing her do it. “Good morning!” She says cheerfully. I take a peek at the muffins and my mouth waters. “Those look amazing.” I say. Andy thanks me and moves the muffins out of the pan and onto a plate. “Go wake up your brother, otherwise these’ll get cold.” 

I head into Dean’s room and shake him awake. He complains, but then I tell him about the fresh baked muffins. He stumbles out of the bed and rushes to change, wanting to get his hands on some of the baked goods. He races out and sits at the table, gazing at the muffins adoringly. Andy passes out plates and we dig in. “These muffins are the best muffins I have ever tasted.” I tell her. I’m not even joking. I had no idea she could bake like this.

“I’m glad you guys like them. It’s the least I can do.” She smiles at us. “Andy taught me how to make muffins. Apparently muffins taste better when cooked.” Cas says. Andy chuckles a bit. “He tried to make one batch, and forgot to turn the oven on. They were in there for a good twenty minutes before I noticed.” I take another bite of muffin. “I’m just surprised he didn’t light anything on fire.” Dean says. Cas scowls. “I don’t light things on fire that often.” We both just look at him. “It’s not my fault that your food is so hard to make.” Cas mumbles.

“Dude. You once stood in the freezer for thirty minutes because the recipe said to chill.” I remind him. Andy giggles a bit. “How was I supposed to know it meant the food?” Andy is full on laughing now, her back shaking. “It’s not that funny!” Cas argues. “Yes it is.” Andy says, laughing harder. I find myself joining in, her laughter infectious. Dean begins to laugh too. Cas tries to keep his scowl, but he can’t stop himself from smiling. 

ANDY:

I feel at home. That shouldn’t be such a weird thing to say, but it is. I haven’t felt at home in a long time. But as I sit around this table, laughing and joking with these guys, I feel like I’m finally home. All my walls are down, my misgivings and barriers forgotten. I’m just me, and they seem to like that. It’s refreshing to be wanted for a change. I can’t believe I only met these guys a month or so ago. It feels like I’ve always known them. 

I’ve just met Cas, but from what the boys have told me, I feel like I know him completely. He’s friendly, his gravelly voice full of kindness. He sits super close to Dean, their legs touching. They’re holding hands, small smiles on their faces. It’s adorable. I look over at Sam. He’s looking down at his empty plate, but he must sense my eyes on him. He looks up and smiles at me, a tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks.

He doesn’t know that I know that he likes me. I wish I could tell him that I like him back, I just don’t know how. Romance is hard. 


	14. Chapter 14

ANDY’S POV:

The past week at the bunker has been one of the best weeks of my life. It’s nice to have a break from hunting for a bit. I’ve loved every moment with the boys, whether it’s reading in silence or watching a movie together. I feel like I belong here, as weird as that sounds. I have my own bed, my own space, my own dresser. I have a place that’s just mine, one that I can stay in for as long as I want. I never really had a place that I could call my own. It’s nice.

I look over at Sam, reading one of the old books on the shelves. It looks to be about dragons. I’m reading an old history book about Aztec gods. It’s actually rather interesting. “Guys, we have a case!” Dean shouts out, walking to the center of the room. Sam sighs and stands up, closing his book. I join him, walking over to the table. Dean slaps down a newspaper from a small local town. The headline reads “Two girls missing, abducted in local forest”.

Dean smiles proudly. “It sounds like our kind of case, right?” Sam bites his lip. “It could be. Or it could just be a psycho abducting women in the woods.” Sam might be right. Not everything monstrous is done by a monster. “I don’t know, they found no footprints, no evidence, and the women have all been abducted from the same forest, same time. It seems like it could be something.” I shrug my shoulders. “We have nothing better to do. Let’s check it out.” I say.

“It’s only a half hour away from here, so it’s perfect. You guys in?” Sam and I both nod. “Let’s change into our suits and head out,” Sam says. I retreat to my room and change into my pencil skirt, button down top, heels, and blazer. The same thing I wear every time. I put on my lipstick and brush my hair, making sure I look professional. I head out of my room and meet the boys at the car, climbing into the back seat.

When we arrive at the crime scene, there are only a few police men. The yellow of the caution tape sticks out against the greens and browns of the forest. We approach the police men and flash our badges, introducing ourselves as Agent Hotch, Agent Reid, and Agent Prentiss. Thankfully, none of the police had ever watched Criminal Minds and didn’t question the names. Sam held up the caution tape while Dean and I passed under, him following along after us.

I inspect the scene. It looks like a normal place, your typical forest. “Did they already do a sweep of the place?” Dean asks. Sam shakes his head. “There was nothing to get. They couldn’t find anything, only the victim’s phones. All found within six feet of here.” I huff in annoyance. Usually we have at least a body to work off of. I glance down at the ground, my heels now covered in dirt. Then my eyes land on footprints. “Guys, look.” I point at the prints etched in the dirt.

“Are those… horse prints?” Sam asks. I shrug my shoulders. The prints are definitely hooves, it’s just a question of what kind of equine creature made them. “Have you seen any animals come through here?” Dean questions. The policemen say no. “We’ve had people here 24/7, and we haven’t had any animals walk through. Those were there at the crime scene when we arrived.” I look at Sam and Dean. It might be nothing, but it’s worth checking out. “So. A creature with hooves who lives in a forest and abducts young women. Seems like some sort of fairytale bullshit.” Dean whispers. I nod in agreement.

“Actually, it sounds a little familiar. I just can’t figure out why.” Sam mumbles. “We don’t have any bodies, so we should talk to the families. Other than that, there’s not much we can do.” I say. One of the policemen comes over. “We tried that. The first victim, Molly Pesper, her family lives in Canada and they haven’t spoken to her in years. The second victim, Bella Isaldi, her only family is her mother, who has dementia. She won’t be much help.” I look at Sam and Dean. “We better talk to the mom, it’s our best shot at a lead.” I sigh. Hopefully she’ll have something to tell us.


	15. Chapter 15

SAM’S POV:

Ms. Isaldi has been staring at us for a good three minutes without saying anything. She’s just sitting in her wheelchair, eyes studying us. Andy clears her throat. “Ms. Isaldi, are you aware that your daughter, Bella, is missing?” Ms. Isaldi coughs into her fist. “Yes. The goats took her.” I raise an eyebrow. “....The goats?” Dean repeats. Ms. Isaldi nods. “She went running, and I told her, in that revealing garb, the goats would get her. They almost got me once when I was a girl. That’s why people rarely go running in the woods.” 

Dean looks unconvinced. “So, you’re saying that there are goats in the forest kidnapping women?” Ms. Isaldi nods again. “She wouldn’t have gotten taken if she didn’t go out dressed like that. They only take the pretty ones.” Andy bites her lip, trying not to laugh. “What exactly was she wearing, Ms. Ibaldi?” she asks. “She was wearing those too tight running shorts, and that revealing top. She said it’s fine and meant for running, but all that’s good for is attracting attention.” Ms. Ibaldi shakes her head, a sad look on her face. 

“Can you describe what you meant when you said goat men?” I ask. Ms. Ibaldi hesitates. “They had horns on their heads. They had hooves instead of feet, their bottom half was a goat. They tried to seduce me, but I was having none of it. I was quite happy with my Harold.” She sounds crazy. Completely, utterly, batshit crazy. She looks at Dean, studying him. “You look a lot like my Harold when he was younger. Harold was a sweet man, and in bed, he was-” I cut her off. “Thank you so much for your time, Ms. Ibaldi. If we have any other questions, we’ll come by again.” We hurriedly rush out before she can start talking about her sex life.

“So. Goat men. Interesting.” Dean says. “She could be telling the truth.” I point out, but even I don’t believe it. “Let’s get back to the bunker and do some research.” Everyone agrees and we drive back, discussing theories the whole way. None of them make sense. Dean insists that it could just be a very hairy man with round feet that lives in the woods, but that doesn’t seem very likely. Though I guess anything can happen on this job.

ANDY’S POV:

I focus on some of the old lore books, Dean looks at old news reports, and Sam scours the internet. “Back in the eighties, there were a couple of disappearances around the area, but once they closed the woods down because of funding, they stopped. The victims were never found. They were all girls.” Dean says. “Ms. Ibaldi could have almost been captured, and she’s remembering it as a monster to cope.” I theorize. Suddenly, Sam’s eyes go wide. He flips the computer around so we can see it.

“So, get this. I knew that the whole goat man thing sounded kind of familiar. It could be a satyr.” Dean raises an eyebrow. “A what? Isn’t that some sort of Jewish dinner?” I shake my head. “That’s a seder.” Dean just shrugs. “Satyrs are from ancient Greek lore, and they are said to be descendants from the gods Pan and Dionysus. They chased after women, drank, danced, sang. They were basically the frat boys of ancient Greece. These guys would do anything to get laid.” Sam explains. “So, satyrs are just really horny goat men?” Dean asks.

Sam hesitates at the crude use of words, but he nods. “But why would the satyrs be here? And why would they start up again?” I question. “I don’t know. It’s definitely weird. Dean, didn’t you say something about the park being closed down?” Dean nods. “Yeah, they closed it down for a couple decades, they didn’t have the money to have rangers out there. They only recently reopened it.” I bite my lip. “That could explain the long break. No one came through, so there was no one to abduct. Now that it’s open, there’s fresh pickings.” This makes sense. “But what are they doing with the victims?” Dean asks. 

“Well, in lore, they would take willing participants out to… do stuff. Then they would eat the person or people. It’s kind of like a siren.” 

“And now there are no willing participants, so the satyr is kidnapping victims and eating them. Wonderful, flesh eating horny goat men. That’s a first.” I mumble. “How do we kill it?” Dean asks. Sam shakes his head, sighing. “It sounds like it’s pretty mortal. Normal stuff will kill it.” Okay, that makes things a bit easier. “How do we lure it out? It’s not like we can do it with milk and cookies.” Dean says. I hesitate. “I think I know how.” The boys turn to look at me.

“Use me as bait. When he comes out to get me, we catch him.” The boys shake their heads. “No. No way. Not happening.” Dean argues. “It’s too dangerous, I’m not letting you do that.” Sam adds. I roll my eyes. “I’m an adult, you guys. I can handle myself. Plus, this is the best plan we’ve got.” The boys continue to argue, but they know I’m right. “I’m doing it. End of story. Now get prepped so we can get this job wrapped up by dinner.” 


	16. Chapter 16

SAM’S POV:

Andy comes out, wearing a running outfit. Tight pink yoga pants and a matching thin pink sweater. “Do I look like good enough bait?” she asks. “Yeah, you look amazing. I mean, I’m not looking or anything-” I just stop talking. Luckily, Andy seems to take it as a compliment. “Thanks, Sam. This sweater kind of sheds, but they’ll have to do.” A piece of pink fuzz falls to the floor. While we walk to the car, Dean elbows me. “Smooth.”

When we arrive at the forest, we grab our tools and get ready to capture the satyr. I’m really not comfortable with this. I don’t want to risk Andy getting hurt, or worse, killed. “Here’s how it’s going to work. I’ll stand there, looking feminine, you two hide and when he comes out, gank him. Sound good?” I nod yes, but my gut turns. I don’t like this. She must notice my hesitation. “Sam, don’t worry. I’m going to be fine. I promise.” She gives me a small smile. 

Dean and I burrow down behind some trees, doing our best to stay out of sight. Andy stands out in the open, stretching her legs and arms. I don’t know how she’s so confident. I would be terrified if I was in her position. “Okay. When the goat man appears, shoot him. Just try not to shoot Andy.” I instruct. “Got it. Shoot the monster, not your girlfriend.” I roll my eyes. “She’s not my girlfriend, Dean.” Dean smirks. “She will be once you man up and tell her how you feel.” 

I’m about to argue with him, but I hear a rustling in the bushes behind me. I whirl around and I see the satyr, standing there in all his goatly glory. I’m about to scream out to warn the others, but he grabs my hair and knees my head. I fall to the ground, the world blurring. I hear Dean grunt and I feel him fall down to the ground next to me. I hear screaming. Andy’s screaming. I get up, stumbling, my vision blurry. “ANDY! HOLD ON!” I shout. I pull out my gun, aming it at the satyr. Andy is unconscious, and the satyr holds her against his chest, blocking any shots I could take. I can’t risk hitting Andy. The satyr runs off, and I start to chase it, screaming out for Andy.

The forest looks the same every which way I look. I feel like I’m going in circles. I can hear the satyr running, but I can’t tell which direction the sound is coming from. “SAM! SAM!” Dean shouts. I turn around and see Dean running towards me, a thin trickle of blood running down his face. “Where did it go?” He asks. “I don’t know, it got Andy. We have to find her. Dean, we have to find her.” I say hurriedly. Panic fills my veins. 

“Sammy. You have to breathe. We won’t be able to find her if you're freaking out.” Dean puts a hand on my shoulder. “It’s my fault, I should have reacted faster. I should have saved her.” Dean frowns at me. “This isn’t your fault. Right now, we have to focus on finding Andy.” I know he’s right. “He could be doing anything to her. She could be dead for all we know,” I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose Andy. I just met her, but I’ve fallen in love with her. Not just a simple crush type of love, but true love. The kind of love that stops your heart, the kind of love that could both build you up and destroy you.

“This thing has to have a hideout, somewhere isolated. There’s miles of forest out here. We need to try and track it.” We retrace our steps back to where we started. There are faint hoofprints, so faint I can barely see them. “Dean, there’s no way we’ll be able to track these all the way to her.” Dean kneels down. “No. But we can track her using this.” He holds up a small piece of pink fuzz, the same shade as her sweater. “I guess we’ve gotta Hansel and Gretel this bitch.” Dean mutters. I hope we can find Andy in time.


	17. Chapter 17

ANDY’S POV:

My head hurts. But that makes sense, considering I was whacked over the head by a goat man. I slowly blink my eyes, taking in my surroundings. I’m tied to an old chair, the wood rough and weathered. I seem to be in some kind of falling down shack, the boards rotting and falling apart. “You’re awake.” The satyr comes into view. He’s exactly as the lore described. He has brown, messy hair and a set of horns on his head. His top half is human, but his bottom half is all goat. “Y’know, next time you could just ask me on a date instead of knocking me out.” I mutter. The satyr smirks. He sneaks closer, his hooves clacking on the wooden boards.

“Are you really so desperate for a date that you would kidnap someone?” The satyr narrows his eyes. “Do you know how hard it is to be like me? You people forgot about us, decided that we only lived in myths and story books. I’m half human, I have needs. I used to be able to get whatever I wanted, and now I’m relegated to living in this shack. I used to be able to sleep with whoever I wanted, and now no one will have me.” 

“So you're kidnapping women to sleep with and eat? Great. Not dysfunctional at all.” I say sarcastically. I work at the ropes around my wrists, the knots slowly coming undone. The satyr comes over and grabs my chin forcing me to look up at him. “You don’t want to piss me off. The longer I want you, the longer you’ll stay alive.” I just glare at him. He gently traces a finger down my face, and I turn my head, biting his finger. He jerks back, blood welling in the cut. “Idiot girl.” He mumbles. He walks over and pulls my head back, looking down at me from above. “You're a pretty thing. I would like to take my time with you, but I’m just too hungry.” His free hand slides down my neck, tracing my collar bone. 

He brings his face down to mine, nipping my ear. I grimace. “Tasy.” he whispers. His mouth moves down to my neck, and he opens his jaw. I brace myself for the pain. “GET AWAY FROM HER.” Sam growls, stalking towards the satyr, gun aimed right at his heart. The satyr moves behind me, using me as a human shield. “You hunters, you just can’t leave anything alone.” Dean comes up behind Sam, cocking his gun. “Move away. Now.” Sam hisses. The satyr stays put. The knots around my wrists are almost untied, the rope giving way. 

“I won’t ask again.” Sam yells. His face is a mask of anger, his eyes flipping between the satyr and I. The satyr places a hand on my head, grasping my hair. “Back off or I break her neck.” Sam’s jaw clenches, but he backs up a bit. I bring my head down and bite the satyr’s arm as hard as I can, tasting the salty blood in my mouth. The satyr jerks back, a gasp of pain escaping his lips. I use that opportunity to get my hands out of the ropes. I stand up and grab my knife from my bra, holding it against the satyr’s throat. His back is pressed up against the wall, as far away from the blade as he can be. 

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.” I whisper. “Look, I can make it worth your while. Just let me go and I can show you a good time, it’s what I do-” I don’t let him finish. “Wrong answer.” I slice the knife across his throat and he falls to the ground, the life draining from his body. I turn around to face the boys. Sam comes running over to me. “Are you okay?” He asks, checking me over for wounds.

“I’m fine. A little bit of rope burn, but other than that I’m good.” Sam heaves a sigh of relief. “I was so worried.” he mutters. “Hey. I’m alright. Nothing happened.” I say softly. “He could have killed you. I’m so sorry, I should have seen him coming.” I shake my head. “Sam, none of this was your fault. I’m okay. I’m right here.” On instinct, I wrap him a hug. His arms fold around me, holding me close. “So, you two love birds ready to leave? This place gives me the creeps.” 


	18. Chapter 18

SAM’S POV:

I’m so glad we got Andy out okay. I don’t know what I would have done if we didn’t. I can’t lose another person, have the person I love disappear. I can’t do that again. I take a sip of my beer, sitting at the table. Everyone else is in bed, tired out from the day. But I’m awake, thoughts racing through my head. Worries, what could have happened. I have this image of Andy lying dead on the floor, blood splayed around her. Her eyes open, empty, staring at the ceiling. The life gone from her body. Her spirit, her sass, everything that makes her who she is, missing.

“Sam, you okay?” I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn around. Andy is standing over me, a concerned look on her face. She has a pair of PJs on, her lips a normal shade. “Yeah. I’m fine.” I give her a tight lipped smile. “I can tell you’re not. What’s running through your head?” I bite my lip. I want to tell her how I feel, tell her how scared I was. I want to let down my walls, let her in. I want her to know. I look up at her. Our eyes meet. It’s like some sort of electricity is passed between us, unseen but felt.

“I was so scared that I had lost you. That I would never see you again.” I hesitate. “That I would never get to do this.” I stand up. I lay a hand softly on her cheek. And I kiss her. It’s like fireworks. It’s perfect. Like a final piece slotting into place. We pull away, both breathing heavily. Andy looks up at me. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that.” she says softly. I grab her hand, holding it tightly. “I didn’t want to scare you away. And I didn’t want you to get hurt. Everyone that gets close to me always gets hurt.” 

“Sam. I’m a hunter, getting hurt is part of the job. Danger is nothing new to me.” I run a hand through my hair. “That’s part of what I hate about this. Our relationship is going to be dangerous. One of us will end up alone, heartbroken. The chances that both of us will survive to old age is slim. But I’d rather spend whatever time I have with you.” Andy moves forward and we’re kissing again, eyes closed. 

“I wish I hadn’t waited so long.” I laugh. “Me neither.”


	19. Chapter 19

ANDY’S POV:

It’s been a month since I started staying at the bunker. Three weeks since Sam and I started dating. It turns out that Dean and Cas had a running bet on when we would get together. Dean won. When Sam and I explained what was going on, Dean turned to Cas and said “I told you so!” not the reaction we were expecting, but a good reaction nonetheless. Apparently he’d been rooting for us to get together since the beginning.

It’s like we’ve always been a couple. We know everything about each other, likes and dislikes, habits, hobbies, preferences. I never believed in soulmates, I always thought it was some sort of fairy tale crap. But now I’m starting to believe soulmates could be real. I’ve never felt the way I feel with Sam before, never felt this way about anyone else. It’s both scary and wonderful, all at the same time.

I had only meant to stay at the bunker for a few days, a week at most, but here I am a month later. All of us are sitting around one of the tables, searching for new cases. “I was thinking, I should get a motel room or something in town. I’ve been staying here for a month, I should really get out of your guys’s hair.” I say. They all look at me in surprise. “You want to leave?” Dean asks. “No, I just don’t want to overstay my welcome.” Dean puts down the newspaper he was reading. “Well, we don’t want you to leave. As far as I’m concerned, this is your home too.” Sam replies. I smile. Home. That’s a nice word. 

“Thank you. All of you.” I say softly. Sam leans down and kisses the top of my head. “Plus, if you move out, I’ll be stuck with these idiots.” Dean and Cas scowl. “Hey, we’re not that bad.” Dean argues. I chuckle and flip to the next page of my newspaper. “Texas is always hot, right?” Cas asks, changing the topic. I nod. “Yeah. That’s why I try to avoid going there in summer. Heat stroke is no fun.” Cas turns his computer to face us. “I don’t know much about Texas, but this seems odd.” 

I take a peek. The article headline reads ‘Human Popsicle in Texas’. I scroll down, skimming over the words. “A Texas man, Leonard Boliver, was found dead due to hypothermia in his house, despite the temperature being 105 degrees outside. Police say it’s due to an issue with his AC.” I look at the boys. “An issue with the AC? Really?” Dean shrugs. “They found the only plausible explanation. At the least the only one they could wrap their heads around.” Dean explains. I can understand what he means. It’s hard to believe that monsters are real if you’ve never dealt with one.

“I say we check it out.” Sam says. We agree. We pack up and head out to the car, Cas saying that he would meet us there. The drive to Texas is a long one, but it feels like it passes quickly. I spend the whole time chatting with the boys, laughing about this and that. We stop for snacks along the way, picking up a variety of unhealthy food. Sam warns us about the dangers of diabetes, but Dean insists that we won’t live past forty anyway. Plus, chocolate is very much worth the risk. 

When we arrive in the small town, we drive to the nearest and only motel in town. The motel looks like no one has stayed in it since the seventies. The lights of the motel sign flicker, looking a little ominous. We walk into the office to get a room key. The old lady at the front desk is wearing an old sweater, colored a rather gross shade of brown. Her grey hair is tied back in a messy bun, her glasses barely balancing on the edge of her nose. “Can I help you?” she asks, her voice high and grating. “Um, yeah. We would like one room, two beds please.” The lady looks down at us, her eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to hear any shenanigans taking place, ya hear?” 

Sam clears his throat nervously, and Dean smirks. “Oh, don’t worry Miss. I’ll make sure there are no shenanigans.” He puts extra emphasis on shenanigan, looking at Sam and I. I grab the key from the lady and rush out. We place our stuff in the room, taking a quick look around. “We should go check out the crime scene, see if the man had any family.” I say. The boys nod in agreement, and we separate to change into our FBI outfits. 

“You guys ready to go?” Dean asks. “Yup. Let’s go catch this off-brand Jack Frost.” 


	20. Chapter 20

SAM’S POV:

The house is blocked up by yellow caution tape, the plastic melting in the Texas heat. I’ve barely been outside for thirty seconds, but I’m pretty sure that I’ve already sweated through my clothes. “Do we have to wear the suits?” Dean whispers, pulling at the collar. I say yes, even though I would much rather take it off. We walk over to the policemen patrolling the scene. We flash our badges. “Why is the FBI investigating a technical error?” one of them asks. “We just have to cover all our bases in a case like this.” I say. They let us inside. I pull out the EMF detector and walk around the room. “The levels are high. Something was definitely here.” 

“There are puddles of water everywhere.” Andy says, tapping her foot in one. The water ripples, spreading out over the wooden floor. “The house feels as warm as outside. I have a hard time believing that a guy froze to death here.” Dean adds. I walk over to the AC machine. I swipe a finger across it, dust flying through the air. “This hasn’t been used in ages.” Andy comes over and looks at it. “Either these police are really bad at their jobs or they are really in denial.” I have to agree with her. It’s rather obvious that this wasn’t some sort of AC malfunction. 

We walk out of the house into the Texas heat, making our way to one of the police men. “Did the victim have any family we could talk to?” I ask. The policeman nods. “His wife. She found the body. She’s in shock, so she’s not making much sense.” We ask where she is, and he points us in the direction of the police station. We drive over, happy to escape the heat for a few minutes. 

When we step into the building, I sigh in relief. Air conditioning. “Can we just stay here forever?” Andy says quietly. I laugh a bit. We’re led to a small room, a middle aged lady sitting on one of the chairs. “Ms. Boliver?” I ask. The woman nods. Her eyes are red from tears, her hair tied back in a ponytail, stray hairs all over the place. She has a thin orange blanket wrapped around her, the type you get from an ambulance. We take a seat on the chairs in front of her. 

“I’m very sorry about your husband, Ms. Boliver. It’s a tragic accident.” Andy says. The woman shakes her head. “This wasn’t some accident. I saw her.” I sneak a look at Dean. He leans forward. “Her?” she nods. “She was standing over him. Her hair was black, flying behind her, even though there wasn’t any wind. She stared at me. Then she disappeared.” This sounds like a spirit. But I’ve never heard of a spirit who freezes people.

Ms. Boliver’s eyes are haunted, her muscles tense. She pulls the blanket more tightly around herself. “They don’t believe me. But I know what I saw.” she mumbles. “Can you describe what she looked like for us?” Dean asks. She hesitates before saying “Yes. She had long black hair. She was pale, the color of snow. She was wearing white robes. She was floating. I’ve never seen anyone float before.” This poor woman is in shock, her mind trying to comprehend what she saw. 

“Is there anything else you can tell us? Were the lights flickering, did you smell anything weird?” I question. “No. But what does that have to do with anything?” Andy shakes her head. “We just have to cover all of our bases. Thank you for your time. If you think of anything, don’t hesitate to contact us.” Andy hands her a business card, and Ms. Boliver hesitantly takes it. We leave, walking back to the car.

“A spirit who freezes people to death and doesn’t leave a trace. Maybe it’s not a spirit.” Dean theorizes. “I don’t know. Whatever this is, it’s something new.” Andy sighs. “Well, we’d better get to researching then.” I say.


	21. Chapter 21

ANDY’S POV:

“Could it be a yeti?” Dean asks. “Yetis don’t live in hot climates. Their fur makes them overheat.” I turn towards Cas. “Yetis are real?” He nods his head. “And in my opinion, much more advanced than the human race.” Sam chuckles a bit. “Let me guess, the Loch ness monster is real too?” Cas frowns. “No. The Loch ness monster never existed. A human just mistook a giant turtle for a monster.” I want to ask Cas what other mythical monsters are real, but Dean makes an ‘aha’ noise and stands up.

He flips the computer to face us. “We’re dealing with a Yoko Ono.” I raise an eyebrow. “John Lennin’s wife? She’s freezing people to death?” Sam takes a closer look at the computer. “He means a Yuki-onna.” That doesn't really clear anything up. Sam scrolls down a bit, reading further. “So, get this. It’s a Japanese ice spirit, a woman who sucks the life force from her victims and freezes them in the process.” Dean crosses his arms. “But why the hell is this ice queen in Texas?” 

Sam shrugs his shoulders. “I have no idea. Could be tied to something.” I take a peek over his shoulder. “How do we kill it? Can we melt it like Frosty the snowman?” Sam shrugs again. “I don’t know. We’ll have to dig a little deeper.” At that, we begin searching for anything we can find on Yuki-onnas. I find a lot of lore about it, and some art from centuries ago. There’s some writing in Japanese at the bottom, but I can’t translate it. 

“There’s a bunch of different stories about them. Sometimes she carries a baby and freezes people who try to take it from her, sometimes she leads travelers off their paths and they die on their own, sometimes she just breaks in and kills people. All of it ends with someone freezing to death.” Sam says. “My guess is we’re dealing with the break in version.” Dean adds. “Anyone find anything on how to kill it?” The boys shake their heads. “So. We know what she is, where she comes from, but we don’t know why she’s here or how to kill her. This doesn’t look good.” 

“We should check out the body, then we should see what might have brought her over here.” We change back into our suits and drive to the police station, the morgue in a separate part of the building. When we enter the building, the room is bustling with people, noise bouncing off the walls. I hear snippets of conversations, and I catch words like ‘again’, ‘frozen’, and ‘creepy’. We walk into the crowd, and a few of the officers turn to look at us. The chief of police comes over and ushers us into his office.

“There was another body found frozen last night. People are starting to get suspicious. Do you guys have any idea what’s going on? We thought Boliver was an isolated case, but now it looks like it could be something more than an AC malfunction.” We look at each other. “We have a theory, but we’ll need some time to figure it out. Can you tell us about the new victim?” the chief nods. “Emilia Jackson. Her daughter found her dead on the floor, cold as ice. M.E. says she died of hypothermia. Her daughter claims that she saw a woman hovering above her mother, she described it as a ghost. The poor kid is traumatized, probably saw things.”

“Can we talk to her daughter?” Sam asks. The officer nods. “She’s staying with her aunt nearby. I’ll give you the address.” He hurriedly scribbles something onto a piece of paper and hands it to Dean. We walk out of the office and head into a secluded corner, where it’s quieter. “I’ll go question the daughter, you guys check out the body.” Dean says. We nod and head our separate directions, Dean going towards the car and Sam and I moving towards the morgue.

When we enter the morgue, I shiver at the sudden change in temperature. A lady in a white coat sits at a long metal desk, the surface covered in pens and little trinkets. The lady looks up when we come in, her blonde hair falling in front of her eyes. She stands up, a smile appearing on her face. Her blue eyes stare at us, lingering uncomfortably long on Sam. She’s wearing a red top and a short black skirt, looking professional while also looking attractive. She brushes her hair back with her hand and walks over.

“Hi. You two must be the FBI agents I keep hearing about. I’m Sally Greenweld.” She sticks out her hand for Sam to shake, and she shoots a flirty smile his way. I fight the urge to roll my eyes at her. “I’m agent Franks, this is my partner agent Smith.” he says. “I assume you two are here to see the bodies?” We nod, and she leads us to two metal tables set up in the middle of the room, two sheet covered forms on top. She pulls the sheet of the first body with a flourish. “This is Leonard Boliver. He died due to severe hypothermia, stopping his heart. He also suffered from severe frostbite on his fingers and face. One strange occurrence was that the liquid in his veins was frozen solid, something I’ve never seen before.” 

I study the body. His face has patches of black skin, and his fingers are tinged black up to the knuckles. His skin is light blue in spots, the rest of the skin a pale white. “Did he have any internal organs missing, or anything else strange?” I ask. She shakes her head. “Yes. The ice still hasn’t fully melted. I took a look at his lungs, and there were ice crystals inside, almost like the air was frozen inside him. I don’t know what to make of it.” I question if the other body is the same. “Exactly the same. Ice in the veins, ice crystals in the lungs, frostbite.” 

She moves closer to Sam, almost pressed against him. “You know, I could really use a warm cup of coffee.” Sam looks down at her. “Um. There’s some coffee in the lounge.” Sally rolls her eyes. “I meant a date, agent Franks. Or maybe just a one night stand?” She winks at him. I almost throw up. “I’m sorry, but I actually have a girlfriend.” Sally leans into him. “She’s not here. She doesn’t have to know.” she whispers. “Actually, she is here. She’s standing right next to you.” Sally’s eyes go wide and she pulls away from Sam.

“Well. Um. If you two could excuse me, I have to go and - and do something else.” She runs off, heading to another room. Sam laughs. “You gave her the scariest death stare I have ever seen.” Sam says. “She deserved it. And Sam? If you ever take her up on that offer for a one night stand, I will destroy you.” Sam chuckles. “Noted.” 


	22. Chapter 22

SAM’S POV:

According to Dean, the daughter had the same story as Ms. Boliver. Ghost lady with long black hair, flowing robes, the whole shabang. “So we have a murderous Jack Frost on the loose. How the hell do we find it?” Dean asks. I shrug. “There has to be something connecting the victims. Maybe the thing tying the Yuki-onna down has something to do with it.” Andy nods. “We should talk to the victims again. Maybe they know what the connection could be.” 

We decide to visit Ms. Boliver first. When we arrive at the house, the police tape is gone. The house is quiet, no sounds of talking or laughing. We knock on the front door, and Ms. Boliver opens it. She doesn’t look much better than the last time we saw her. Her eyes are still red, and she looks like she hasn't showered in days. “Can I help you?” She asks. “Ms. Boliver, we were hoping to ask you some more questions.” Dean says. Ms. Boliver opens the door wider and we walk inside. We take a seat in the living room, the same room where Mr. Boliver was found. Ms. Boliver sits across from us, her hands clasped.

“Ms. Boliver, did your husband know anyone by the name of Emilia Jackson?” I ask. Ms. Boliver thinks for a second before nodding. “No. But I do. I sold the painting my husband got on his last trip to her.” Andy sits up a little straighter. “His trip?” Ms. Boliver nods again. “He went to Japan. He had just gotten back a week ago.” Japan. Where the Yuki-onna is from. “You said he sold a painting to her. What exactly was the painting?” I ask. 

“My husband was a history buff. He loved his old paintings. I had to sell it to pay for the funeral. It was an old painting of a lady, he said it was from 1790. He told me he bought it from a notorious collector. He spent thousands on this. But now I need that money. Funerals are more expensive than you think.” she lets out a half hearted chuckle. “So you sold this old Japanese painting to Emilia Jackson?” Andy continues. “Yes. She runs a small antique shop in town. Is she in trouble or something?” I glance down at the floor. “Ms. Boliver, Emilia Jackson passed away a few hours ago. I’m so sorry.” 

Ms. Boliver’s hand flies to her mouth. “Oh my god. What happened?” I look at Dean. “She died the same way as your husband.” I say softly. She starts to breathe fast, her eyes watering. “I did this, didn’t I? I passed the ghost on to her.” Andy shakes her head. “No, none of this is your fault. Don’t put that weight on yourself.” Ms. Boliver looks at Andy. “Why does the FBI believe me? I barely even believe myself.” Dean clears his throat. “We just want to follow up on any leads we have, and that includes possible ghosts.”

Ms. Boliver seems satisfied with that answer. “Where exactly is Ms. Jackson’s shop?” I ask. Ms. Boliver gives us directions. We thank her for her time and leave, heading straight to the antique shop. The drive there is quiet, all of us processing what we just heard. No matter how many times you see someone grieving, it never gets any easier. It always reminds you of what you’ve lost, of how you were once like that person. It reminds you of the feelings, of the painful memories. 

When we enter the antique shop, I’m not sure where to look first. Stuff is everywhere, stacked on tables, shelves, the floor. You can’t see the walls and there’s barely any floor left to walk on. There doesn’t appear to be any organization, just stuff on every available surface. I see things ranging from furniture to those creepy dolls you see in movies. Andy holds up what appears to be a monkey doll missing eyes. “Who would buy this?” she mutters. Dean studies a lavender vase on one of the tables, cracks littering the glass. All this stuff looks like crap.

“Can I help you?” A teen comes out, carrying a stack of boxes. We walk up to the front, carefully dodging the items blocking our way. The teen has black hair, a nose ring, and her arms are covered in tattoos. She’s chewing gum, snapping it every now and then. We flash our badges and introduce ourselves. She leans over the counter, an unamused expression on her face. “Is your manager here?” Dean asks. She pops her gum. “I am the manager.” 

“Are you aware that your boss, Emilia Jackson, has passed away?” The girl nods. “Heard last night. Pretty sad.” she doesn’t seem too upset about the whole thing. “Well, we’re trying to track down some leads. Do you remember being sold an old Japanese painting? Like really old?” I ask. “Yeah. It had that lady on it. It’s not everyday we get a real antique like that.” the girl says. “Do you still have it?” Andy asks, hope in her voice. The girl shakes her head. Andy’s chest deflates.

“Do you know who you sold it to?” I question. “Yeah.” I wait for the girl to continue, but she just continues to stare at me. “Who did you sell it to?” I continue. The girl ducks down and digs through a pile of receipts. She hands one to me. “He said his name was Jeremy. His infos on here. He signed up for our sale emails.” Why anyone would want to buy anything here is beyond me, but it helps us that he left his information. “Thank you for your help.” Dean finishes. “No problem. Also, promise me you’ll catch the bitch who killed Emilia. She was a good woman.” 

The girl's face falls a bit. She’s not some emotionless teenager. She’s grieving, but she’s trying to keep it to herself. I guess everyone hurts, even if we don’t all show it.


	23. Chapter 23

ANDY’S POV:

So, apparently mansions exist even in small towns. The guy who bought the painting, Jeremy Wester, lives in a giant house. Three stories tall, shaped hedges. The kind of house you see in movies. There’s no doorbell, only a fancy metal knocker shaped like a lion. Dean bangs it against the oak door a few times, the sound echoing through the open yard. The door opens and I see a short old man, hunched over. His white hair makes a halo around his head, his face wrinkled and worn. He squints at us. He’s dressed in a fancy suit, the black fabric bending as he moves.

“Hi. We’re from the FBI, we’d like to talk to you about an art piece you purchased.” Sam says. The man squints harder. “I’m merely the butler, sir. You’ll have to talk to my boss.” Dean raises an eyebrow. “Okay, Jeeves. Can you take us to see him?” Sam elbows him, scowling. “My name is Precit, sir. Please come in, I’ll fetch my Mr. Wester.” He holds the door open for us as we enter. I have to fight back a gasp. The inside of the house is insane, with spiraling staircases and white marble floors. Paintings adorn the walls, some looking like classic Picassos.

“Wow. Quite a place.” Dean mumbles. I nod in agreement. “Isn’t this where Daddy Warbux lived?” Sam looks at Dean in confusion. “Y’know, from Annie? The millionaire dude?” Dean rolls his eyes. “We need to catch you up on the classics.” Sam just huffs in response. “This guy is some sort of art buff.” I say. I study one of the paintings on the wall. It looks like the real deal, signature and all. “Why would some rich guy go to that crappy store?” Dean asks.

“Because this rich guy enjoys antiques.” a voice says. We whirl around. A stout man stands there, wearing a blue hawainn shirt with yellow flowers. He has his hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts, his feet adorned in socks and sandals. He looks like an elderly tourist. Not what I was expecting. “I am so sorry, Mr. Wester, I didn’t mean it as an insult-” the man cuts him off with a laugh. “No worries, kiddo. I’m just joking.” He sticks out his hand. “And please, call me Jeremy. Precit told me you three were from the FBI?” 

“Yes, we’re here investigating the recent deaths in town.” Jeremy gives a sad smile. “Yes, very sad. They were both good people. I went to highschool with Boliver, and I shopped at Emilia’s antique shop all the time. They will be missed.” He heaves a sigh before asking “What can I do for you all?” Sam clears his throat, straightening his tie. “We were told that you purchased a painting from the antique shop, an old Japanese one. Is that true?” Jeremy nods. “Yes, it’s a traditional painting, from 1790. Made by the talented Katsushika Hokusai, one of the most famous artists of all time. I only paid a couple thousand for it, a low price considering it’s worth.” Only a couple thousand? What I wouldn’t give for that kind of money.

“Are you aware that the painting was sold to Emilia Jackson by Ms. Boliver?” I ask. “Yes, Leonard told me when he bought it. Ms. Boliver asked me how much she should charge for it, and when I learned that she sold it to the antique shop, I bought it from Emilia.” So he knows how the painting switched hands, and he knows that both people who had it died, yet he doesn’t seem worried. “So you know that both owners have died?” Dean continues. Jeremy says yes. “I expect it’s some kind of curse, but all good art has it’s oddities.” 

“We’re going to need to confiscate the art, see if we can get any evidence from it.” Sam tells him. He looks at us for a moment. “Your hunters, aren’t you?” We deny it, insisting that we’re FBI. He waves us off. “Oh, please. I know a hunter when I see one. I’ve dealt with quite a few of you in my time. There are more haunted paintings than you know.” He turns around and gestures for us to follow him. We look at each other in shock. It’s not everyday you meet someone who knows that hunters exist.

Jeremy leads us through several rooms, each one decorated with art and modern furniture. Dean reaches out to touch a glass vase, but Sam smacks his hand away. “Don’t touch anything.” he whispers. “DoN’t tOuCh aNytHiNg.” Dean mimics quietly. I roll my eyes. For two adults, they sometimes act a lot like children. 

Jeremy leads us to a locked metal door. “This is my art safe, where I keep my most valuable pieces.” he explains. He sticks a key in the door and unlocks it, pulling the door open. He holds it for us as we walk through. The room is small, but it is filled with art of all different styles, stacked up against each other. There are a couple statues that sit on pedestals, some made of clay and some made of stone. There must be millions of dollars worth of art in this room alone. “This is amazing.” Sam says, looking around in awe. Jeremy smiles. “It’s my greatest achievement. I plan to donate all the art to public museums once I pass.” 

He opens a small black box and pulls out a piece of white parchment, pieces stained yellow from time. He hands it to us. I study it, the lines carefully drawn by hand. The woman in the painting has snow white skin, black hair that falls around her shoulders and frames her round face. Her body is covered in a white kimono, the fabric the same shade as her skin. She has a lost look on her face, her eyes staring solemnly at the snowy ground below. On the right edge, there is some Japanese script in black, standing out against the pale hue of the painting.

“This is it?” I ask. Jeremy nods. “I expect that I won’t be getting that back?” I bite my lip. “Probably not.” Sam says honestly. I don’t want to destroy this piece. It’s beautiful, history preserved in every brush stroke. But we have no choice. A spirit is tied to the painting, it’s soul mixed in with the paint on the paper. We have to destroy it. There’s no other way.


	24. Chapter 24

SAM’S POV:

Andy lays the paper on the ground outside, in a patch of dried dirt. “This feels wrong.” she murmurs. I grab her hand. “I know. But we have to do it.” she nods. I flick the lighter open, the fire igniting. I hold it above the painting. Then I’m swept from my feet.

I hit the ground hard, the grass doing nothing to soften my fall. Andy calls out my name, running towards me. I look up and see the Yuki-onna hovering over me, her hair flying around her head. Her kimono ripples, the white fabric almost blinding. Her lips are tinged a light blue, her eyes black. Andy is about to hit the spirit with some salt, but the Yuki-onna throws Andy to the side with a flick of her hand. She does the same to Dean, and I hear him land with a grunt. 

The Yuki-onna opens her mouth, coming closer and closer to my face. “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Andy shouts, pushing me out of the way. The Yuki-onna grabs Andy, trading me for her. She holds Andy down, sucking the life force from her body. Blue light leaves her mouth, a choking sound coming from her throat. “ANDY! DEAN, HELP!” I race towards her, but the Yuki-onna throws me back. I stand up, looking wildly for anything that could help. “Sam! Lighter!” Dean throws me the lighter, and I catch it. I race towards the painting and light it.

I drop the lighter, the fire immediately engulfing the painting. The Yuki-Onna screams, her voice a mixture of multiple voices. Fire climbs up her body, disintegrating her. She disappears, nothing left of her but a cloud of smoke. I run over to Andy, kneeling on the ground next to her. She’s pale, her eyes closed. 

“Andy? Andy, please, wake up.” I beg, my fingers finding her pulse point. Her skin is cold as ice, her lips tinged blue. Her pulse is faint underneath my fingers, but it’s there. Dean kneels down next to me, worry written on his face. “Is she alive?” I nod quickly. Dean heaves a sigh of relief. “She’s freezing. We need to get her warm.” I say. “We need to get her into lukewarm water, otherwise the temp change could shock and stop her heart.” Dean nods. He runs towards the house, racing inside. I put an arm under Andy’s knees and an arm under her head, picking her up.

Her body is freezing against me, the cold reaching through all my layers of clothes. “C’mon, Andy. You’re going to be okay.” I think I say that to assure me more than her. I hold her close, trying to warm her up as best I can. I follow in Dean’s footsteps, speeding towards the house. Her head sits against my chest, the only sign that she’s alive the small bursts of breath I see as her chest moves. When I enter the house, Jeremy points me in the direction of the bathroom, leading me there. 

The bathroom is big, with a white tub almost halfway filled with water. Dean sits next to the tub, sleeves pulled up to his elbows. I gently lower Andy into the water, the cuffs of my suit getting wet. I make sure to cradle her head, keeping it above water. Jeremy looks over my shoulder. “Is she going to be okay?” he asks worriedly. “She has to be.” I reply. 

If she’s not, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t take another loss like this. Not again. I love her. I can’t let her die because she was saving me. Her clothes flow around her in the water, vibrant against the cream of her skin. Her chest gently rises and falls. Her hair floats around her head, a deathly crown. She looks so weak right now, the opposite of the woman I know. I have to fight back the fear threatening to swallow me. 

Her arm twitches, and she makes a small noise. “Hey. I’m right here. You're okay.” I say softly. Her eyes open, blinking a few times. “Sam?” she asks quietly. “Yeah, sweet heart, it’s me. I’m here.” She tries to sit up, but can’t do it on her own. I help her sit up, the water dripping from her hair. “What happened?” She asks. “The Yuki-onna almost got you. You were saving my ass.” I chuckle. Andy tries to rub some warmth back into her arms. I aid her in standing up, and Dean hands her a towel. She wraps it around herself, shivers still wracking her body.

“Let me go get you a change of clothes. My husband is closer to your size, I can lend you some of his stuff. He won’t mind, he’s away on a business trip.” Jeremy says. He walks out of the bathroom, leaving the three of us alone. “How do you feel?” Dean questions. “Cold. Y’know, like I almost just froze to death.” I smile. Despite almost dying, Andy still has her sense of humor. I hug her, her wet arms wrapping around my back. “I’m glad you're okay.” I whisper. “Me too.” I give her a quick kiss. I guess it takes a lot more than an angry ice spirit to get Andy down.


	25. Chapter 25

ANDY’S POV:

When Jeremy told me that his husband was closer to my size, I thought the clothes might almost fit. I was wrong. Very, very wrong. I’m drowning in a black t-shirt and I had to roll the jeans up six times to get them to keep from touching the ground. Not a great fit, but at least it’s dry. The shivers are starting to subside and feeling is returning to my body. 

The boys take one look at me before laughing. Well, Sam tries not to laugh, but he fails. Dean on the other hand doesn’t even try not to laugh. “Stop laughing, you two. The only reason I’m wearing this is because I was saving your butt, Winchester.” Jeremy studies my outfit and crosses his arms. “Oh dear. I thought that would be a better fit.” This makes the boys start laughing all over again.

“Thank you for the clothes, Jeremy.” I tell him. “No worries. It’s the least I can do, you almost died to get rid of that ghost.” I smile at him. “That’s our job.” I walk over to Sam and grab his hand. “I’m sorry about your painting.” Sam says. Jeremy waves it off. “Not the first time it’s happened, and it won’t be the last. I’m just glad I got some photos of it.” He’s surprisingly chill for a guy that just lost a thousand-dollar painting. 

We say our thank yous and goodbyes, Jeremy promising that he would help out if we were ever in town again. Once we’re in the car, I lay down on the seat. “I need to change, and then we’re going out for food. Warm food. And hot chocolate.” The boys voice their agreement and we head back to the hotel, leaving Jeremy behind.

Once I’ve changed into clothes that actually fit, I make the boys take me to the nearest diner. I order a hot chocolate and a piece of pie. People give me some odd looks, probably because it’s boiling outside, and no one in their right mind drink hot chocolate in that type of weather. Despite their judgements, I very much enjoy my hot chocolate and pie. Very refreshing after almost freezing to death.

Dean tries to steal a forkful of my pie. “Dean, you have your own!” I laugh, pulling my plate away. “But I already finished my slice.” he whines. Sam grabs a forkful before I can stop him, and I whack his shoulder. “Seriously you two? Just buy another slice!” I pull my plate away from Sam, placing my arm around it. “Sharing is caring.” Dean tries to steal a forkful and I hit his hand away. “Maybe I don’t care.” Sam pouts, giving me his puppy dog eyes. “Alright alright, I care. Now stop giving me the puppy dog eyes before I die of cuteness.” I relinquish my pie, and Dean digs right in. “I knew you cared.” Sam says, kissing me. 

Once Dean finishes eating my pie, we return to the motel room and pack up. We make the long drive back to the bunker, listening to Dean’s music the whole way. When we finally get back to the bunker, I climb out and stretch my limbs, muscles taut from sitting for so many hours. “Home sweet home.” I mutter. 

Cas is sitting at the table, a large book in his hands. “Hi, angel.” Dean says, giving Cas a kiss on the head. Cas looks up, a small smile on his face. “Hello, Dean.” He puts his book down, marking his place with a strip of red fabric tied to the spine. “I learned something interesting this weekend.” Sam raises an eyebrow. “What did you learn?” he asks. “Did you know that pineapple eats you while you eat it? A terrible addition on my father’s part.” Dean chuckles. “Good to know.” Cas furrows his brow. “Actually, it might have been Gabriel who added that. Seems like something he would do.”

“Gabriel? Like the archangel?” I question. “Yeah. He’s a douche.” Dean explains. Cas nods in agreement. “He’s a good guy though.” Sam adds. “So which is he? A douche or a good guy?” I look between the two brothers. “He’s a good douche.” Cas explains. “He’s saved our asses a few times.” Dean crosses his arms. “He basically raised me, since God wasn’t really around. He was a terrible influence and set horrendous examples, but he did a pretty good job.” Cas adds.

I swear, the more I learn from the Winchesters, the more crazy the world seems.


	26. Chapter 26

SAM’S POV:

“You’re telling me that you’ve never eaten rhubarb pie, yet you consider yourself a pie aficionado? ” Andy asks, taking a sip of her beer. “Rhubarb is a vegetable, so therefore rhubarb pie isn’t really pie.” Dean argues. Cas and I look on as the two continue their debate. “Pies don’t contain vegetables. If it has vegetables, it’s not a pie.” Andy raises an eyebrow. “Then why does it have pie in the name?” Dean is about to give his rebuttal when Crowley appears on the table. Andy jumps back, almost knocking over her chair. She has her gun trained on him before I can even blink.

“Moose, call off your guard please.” Crowley says, gesturing towards Andy. “What do you want, Crowley.” I growl. “Tame your girlfriend first, please. I really don't want to be shot today. I’m wearing my nice suit.” I look at Andy. She reluctantly lowers the gun. Crowley steps down from the table and straightens his suit. “You humans have terrible manners.” He mutters. Andy slides the gun into her waistband. “This is Crowley? The Crowley, king of Hell?” Crowley nods. “The one and only.” he says proudly. Andy looks him up and down. “I thought you’d be… scarier.” I have to fight back a laugh. Only Andy would say something like that to the king of Hell.

Crowley glances at her. “Another disrespectful human. Just what I needed.” Dean crosses his arms and glares at Crowley. “What do you want?” he asks gruffly. Crowley rolls his eyes. “What, no hello, how are you? I’m offended, squirrel. I thought we were better friends than this.” Dean just glares harder. “What do you want?” he repeats. “I’m doing great, thank you. And I’ve come here because I need your little group to do me a favor.” I walk closer to Crowley. “And why would we do you any favors?” Crowley smiles at me, tilting his head. “Maybe because I’ve saved your lives more times than I can count? Anyway. I need you to hunt someone down for me.” 

“Who exactly do you want us to hunt?” Andy asks. “Djall got loose.” Dean gives him a look of pure confusion. “Who?” Crowley sighs. “Djall, the Albanian version of the devil. Basically Lucifer but without all the power. Some idiot demons accidentally let him loose, and now he wants to do evil. Pretty straightforward, nothing too serious.” I look at him with disbelief. “So, Lucifer’s cousin is on the loose. That seems pretty serious to me.” Crowley waves a hand. “He’s the knock off Lucifer. You should be able to take him down easy. Just kill him, make it easier on all of us. He just takes up space.” Kill a devil. Like that could be easy. 

“And how do we kill him?” Castiel asks. “With your demon blade, he’s basically just a demon with a few extra upgrades.” That makes things a bit better. “Where is he?” Dean questions. “I have no clue where he is. I suppose my mother will have to help with that.” His face sours on the word mother. “Mother? As in birthed and raised you mother?” Andy’s eyes are wide with surprise. “Birthed, yes. Raised, no.” Crowley snaps his fingers and Rowena appears next to him, a cup of tea in her hand. “Fergus, what have I told you about summoning me without warning?” she hisses, her accent thick. “It’s Crowley.” Rowena ignores him, taking a sip of her tea.

“Hello, Winchesters, angel-” she pauses, looking Andy up and down. “Who is this? Don’t believe we’ve met.” Andy gives a small wave. “Hi. Andy.” Rowena smiles. “About time you added a woman to your little boys club.” Andy smiles a bit. “They needed someone with actual skill on their team.” she jokes. Rowena wags her finger at Andy. “I like this one.” She sets her cup down on the table, a faint ring already appearing underneath it. “What is it exactly that you want? I’m a busy woman.” Dean looks at Crowley, willing him to explain. “I need you to hunt down Djall for me. Use your spells and whatnot to find him, and then you can be on your merry way.” Rowena frowns at him.

“I’m not going to do this for free, you know. A witch requires something in return.” She points her gaze at Crowley. “If you don’t do this, I’ll kill you. I think your life is a worthy trade.” Rowena considers for a moment. “Seems reasonable. Where should I work? And who’s bringing me my stuff?” Looks like we’re working with a witch again. Wonderful.


	27. Chapter 27

ANDY’S POV:

Watching Rowena work is almost hypnotic. “Hand me the lamb’s blood, please.” I grab the small tube of blood and give it to her. “Thank you.” she pours it into the metal bowl and a small plume of smoke escapes. “So, are they keeping you captive?” Rowena asks. “What?” Rowena looks up at me. “The Winchesters. Are they keeping you captive? I can’t imagine that you would work with them willingly.” I shake my head, a smirk on my face. “Nope, I’m here of my own free will. Not that they could force me to do anything.” Rowena hums under her breath, pouring another tube into the bowl. 

“These Winchesters have caused me countless problems in the past. Annoying little things, always messing things up.” Rowena says. I chuckle a bit. “Yeah, they tend to do that. That’s why I’m here, I clean up their messes.” Rowena smiles. “Hey! We can still hear you two!” Dean yells from across the room. I stick my tongue out at him and he rolls his eyes. “Very mature, Andy.” Sam walks to me, taking a peek at what Rowena is doing. “You almost done?” He asks. “Magic takes time, Moose.” She dumps something else into the bowl, a clank coming from inside. “Well, I’d like to find Djall before he can cause any trouble.” Sam adds.

“You hunters, always so rushed.” Rowena sighs, wiping her hands on her dress. “The spell is complete. Step back, and if you touch me… well, just don’t touch me.” We oblige and take a few steps back, giving her space. She murmurs something over the bowl, her voice hushed. Her head jerks back, her face turned toward the ceiling. Her eyes roll back, only the whites showing. She stands there, muscles taut. “Is she okay?” I whisper. Castiel nods. “It’s just part of the spell.”

A few moments later, Rowena heaves a deep breath and her eyes roll forward again. “Where is he?” Dean asks. “In a diner, ‘May’s Pie Shop’. He was yelling at a waitress.” Sam pulls out his phone and types the name in. “The diner is in Arkansas. We can be there within a few hours.” I nod. “What does he look like?” I ask. “He had black hair, about six feet tall, kind of wimpy looking, a little bit like my Fergus when he was younger.” Crowley glares at her. I bite back a laugh. I guess even the King of Hell can get embarrassed by his parents.

****************

The diner is old. The wooden furniture is weathered, stains dotting the surfaces. A few photos hang on the wall, a mixture of family gatherings and school photos. There are a few people sitting down, eating different meals. An old lady works behind the counter, wiping the glass display booth. A waitress in a red apron is taking an order from a man in a cowboy hat, his beard covering most of his mouth. We’re not in our FBI garb this time, and we seem to fit in with the other customers. No one gives us a second look. 

We walk over to talk to the woman working behind the counter. Her name tag reads May. “How can I help y'all?” her voice has a southern twang to it, and she gives off a grandmotherly feel. “We’re actually here to ask about a friend. We were told he came in here yesterday. Black hair, six feet tall.” Sam says. The woman’s smile falls from her face. “You're not here to cause any trouble, are you?” I shake my head. “No, and I’m sorry if he did. He’s been on a bit of a bender recently, that’s why we’re trying to find him.” her smile returns to her face, the skin around her eyes wrinkling.

“Such good friends. I hope you do find him. He seemed really out of it. He kept yelling at Sara.” She gestures for the waitress to come over. Sara gives us a wave, brushing her blonde hair behind her ear. “Do you remember the man that came in yesterday, the one who was shouting up a storm?” May asks. “Of course. He came in here ranting and raving, saying we should all kneel down before him. Seemed like he was pretty drugged up.” Sara says. “He demanded we bring him food, he asked for some weird shit.” May frowns. “Language, Sara.”

Sara apologizes before continuing her tale. “He wanted raw meat. I told him we couldn’t sell him that, and he started yelling at me. I offered to bring him some bacon, so that calmed him down for a bit. But then he tried to leave without paying. I confronted him and he got all confused. If I remember correctly, he said ‘money is for mortals.’ then he stormed out. He hasn’t been back.” 

“Do you have any idea where he might have gone?” I ask. Sara shrugs her shoulders. “Nope. But he did mumble something about finding a base. I don’t know how he’s supposed to get a room without money, but that’s not really my problem.” Sam furrows his brow. “Are there any places he could be staying, anywhere that’s abandoned?” Sara nods. “This whole town is basically abandoned. He could literally be anywhere.”

“Do you have a picture of what he looked like? For a missing poster?” Dean questions. “Yeah. We got him on the security tapes, but I don’t know how much that’ll help.” May leads us behind the counter and into a small room. She clicks on an old computer and presses some buttons, bringing up the feed. The video is grainy and in black and white, the quality truly terrible. She speeds through until she finds the man. She pauses it and we take a look at his face.

He has shaggy black hair, sticking up all over the place. His shirt has a picture of superman on it. His arms are thin, with no muscles or fat. He looks a bit like a badly drawn stick figure. Rowena wasn’t kidding when she said he looked wimpy. Why Djall chose this guy as his vessel is beyond me. Sam takes a snapshot of him on his phone, sending it to Dean and I. We thank May and leave the dinner with no new information.

“Let’s run the photo against missing persons and go from there. We should ask around town, see if anyone has seen him.” I say. Time to get to work.


	28. Chapter 28

SAM’S POV:

It’s been at least three hours. There are way too many missing men fitting Djall’s vessel’s description. “Have you found anything yet?” Dean asks. “You asked me two minutes ago. The answer is still no.” Dean heaves a heavy sigh, taking a long sip of his beer. Andy comes over and gives me a quick kiss, rubbing my shoulder. “We’ll find him soon.” I hope she’s right. This is taking way too long. I continue to scroll, my arm tired from the repetitive movement. I scroll down a bit, and something catches my eye. I scroll back up. It’s the man.

“Guys, I found him.” They come rushing over, huddling around me. I click on the picture and his information comes up. “His name is Alexander O’Brian. He’s twenty-one, a student at Arkansas Tech University. He was reported missing two days ago. I’m sending the photo to you guys.” I screenshot the image and text it to them, their phones dinging moments later. “Let’s get out there and ask around. See if anyone has seen him.” Dean says.

“I have a better way.” I turn around and see Cas standing right behind me. “Jesus, Cas, what have we said about sneaking up on us like that?” Dean mutters. “I am sorry.” Dean smiles at him and comes over, standing a bit closer to him than necessary. “So you said you had a better way?” Andy questions. Cas nods. “I found the only building warded against angels. It has to be Djall. I have the address.” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wrinkled piece of paper, an address written in pencil.

“Let’s get over there and kill this bitch.”

****************

The warehouse looks rather normal. Boarded up, covered in graffiti. There are warehouses like this everywhere. “This is the one?” I ask. Cas nods. I pull out my demon blade, and Dean does the same. “Ok. Dean, Cas, you guys work on getting rid of the warding. Andy and I will go figure out where he is.” Andy and I run off to the side of the warehouse, looking for an entrance. I find a loose board and rip it away, the wood breaking. Andy climbs in first and then helps me through, keeping me from falling onto the dust covered floor. 

The warehouse is full of boxes, some covered with sheets and some bare against the grey walls. The air is thick with dust, our steps leaving footprints on the ground. We weave our way between boxes, keeping watch for Djall. Andy holds out her hand, stopping me. “He’s here.” she mouths. We carefully creep out from behind the boxes, knives at the ready. Djall is sitting on a box in the middle of the room, a faint beam of light from a hole in the ceiling illuminating him. 

“Hunters. I swear, you get stupider with every millenia.” Before I can say anything, I’m thrown back into a stack of boxes, grunting as I hit the ground. I hear Andy fall a bit away from me, her body hitting the ground with a thud. I stumble my way back up and run towards Djall. Not the smartest move, but the only one I could think of. The knife is whisked from my hand, clanging against the floor. I pull back my arm and thrust my fist towards his face, but he stops it in midair, just inches away from my intended target.

My muscles shake as I try to fight against his grip. “I was planning to get some food later, but then you walked right in. Just my luck.” Djall turns his head, his cold eyes studying me. “Get away from him!” Andy shouts, running up. She manages to get a small cut on Djall’s arm, and he hisses, pulling back. He growls and flicks his hand, throwing Andy against the wall. She hits it with a sickening crack, falling to the ground. A thin trickle of blood runs down her face. “Andy!” she doesn’t respond. Djall returns his attention to me, tightening his grip around my fist. “I’m going to keep you two for later. I like to play with my food before I eat it.” I’m about to say something, but his free hand taps my forehead and everything goes black.


	29. Chapter 29

DEAN’S POV:

When we finally get all the warding erased, we race inside. The warehouse is unnervingly quiet, the only thing moving the stale air. “Sammy?” I shout out. My voice echoes back, the only response I get. I look at Cas. We run forward, the dust flying up around us. I continue to scream for Sam and Andy, hoping that they’re okay. Panic races through my veins. “DEAN!” I turn towards Cas. He points at the wall. Written in blood are the words ‘They are mine’. “DAMMIT!” I scream. “We have to find them, Cas!” he places a hand on my shoulder.

“We’ll find them. I’ll call Rowena, she’ll help us. We won’t let Djall get away with this.”


	30. Chapter 30

ANDY’S POV:

Ow. Not a fan of waking up tied to a chair. This happens way more than it should. I tug against my ropes, but they hold tight. I look around and see Sam next to me, his head against his chest. “Sam! Sam, wake up!” I hiss. Sam’s head bobs, rising up. He slowly blinks, taking in his surroundings. His eyes go wide as he realizes where we are. He turns toward me, a worried expression on his face. “Are you okay?” I nod. “How about you?” He says he’s fine, but he grimaces when he moves. “Shit.” Sam mutters, pulling at his bonds. “Sam, stop, you're going to hurt yourself.” His hands continue to move.

“I have to get you out of here.” he says. “You mean we have to get us out of here. I’m not leaving us alone, and there’s no way that you’re going to get anyone out of here on your own.” Sam pauses and looks at me, pausing in his attempt to get out of his ropes. “I can’t let you get hurt.” he tells me, his voice soft. “Sam, I’m going to be okay, and so are you. Dean and Cas are already looking for us, we’ll be out of here in no time.” I can tell he doesn’t believe my words, and to be honest, neither do I. But I have to hope nonetheless.

Sam looks me in the eye, biting his lip. “I love you, Andy. I know this isn’t the greatest time, but I need to tell you now in case I can’t tell you later-” I interrupt him. “I love you too, Sam. More than anything.” My heart hurts, exploding both with love and sadness. This could be the first and last time I get to tell him this. “How romantic!” Djall is standing in the corner of the room, hidden in the shadows. He never even opened the door to our cement room. He must have transported in for dramatic effect. 

Djall stalks forward, twirling a knife. I recognize the knife as the knife that usually lives in my boot. He makes his way over to me, tracing the knife down my cheek. I keep my face still, refusing to give him any satisfaction. “Get away from her!” Sam shouts, pulling against his ropes once again. Djall ignores him, continuing his villain speech. “Love, I don’t understand. Lust on the other hand….” He brings the knife down my neck, hovering just over my collarbone. “Love is a weakness. It can only end badly.” 

“If you hurt her, I will kill you.” Sam growls. “You know, I used to be feared. No one dared to speak to me like that. But then Lucifer took over, and they all feared him more. I was forgotten, locked away. But now I’m free. And I’ll make them fear me again.” Djall leans closer to me, placing his knife under my chin, forcing me to look up. “I bet you’ll taste delicious.” he whispers. He pulls the knife away, walking to stand in front of Sam and I. “I’d eat you right away, but it’s so much more fun to cause some pain first.”

“Don’t lay a hand on her. Do whatever you want to me, but leave her alone.” Sam says. Djall makes a noise of disapproval, clicking his tongue. “You're not the one in control, Sammy. I can do whatever. I. Want.” He moves behind me, grabbing my hair. I try to bite back my yelp, but it escapes. “You see, I can hurt both of you at once. By hurting your pretty little girlfriend, I can hurt you. I never even have to lay a hand on you to make you feel pain. I’m going to make you watch as I feed on her, taste her blood. You get to listen to her screams, see the life drain from her eyes. It’s one of the most beautiful things.”

I feel like I might be sick. Fear roils in my gut, fear for what is to come and what could happen to Sam. “Please. Don’t hurt her. I’ll do anything.” Sam begs, desperation in his voice. “Groveling. As nice as it is to hear, it won’t do much good.” He brings his face down to my neck, bearing his teeth. “I’ve been so hungry for so long.” he hisses. He opens his jaw, and I brace myself for the pain.


	31. Chapter 31

SAM’S POV:

“Stop!” Djall stands up, wrapping his arm around Andy’s neck. Dean and Cas stand in the doorway, Dean holding a gun in his hand. “Guests! I assume you're not staying for dinner?” he tightens his grip on Andy’s neck, and she gasps for breath. “I said get away from her.” Dean repeats, cocking his gun. “You really think that can hurt me? You must be more stupid than I thought.” Djall hisses. “Can’t say I didn’t ask first.” Dean fires the gun, and Djall falls back, blood flying through the air. Djall lets out a growl of pain, standing up. 

He sticks his hand out, but nothing happens. He does it again. He yells in frustration. “A devil's trap bullet. Now we’re on even fighting ground.” Dean charges towards Djall, dropping the gun and pulling out his demon knife. Djall blocks his hits, stumbling backwards. He punches Dean, and Dean kicks his stomach. Djall keels over, and Dean takes the opportunity to stab the blade right through Djall’s heart. Djall looks down at the blade in shock, his mouth agape. His eyes flash, his skeleton illuminated. Dean pulls the knife out and he falls to the ground, blood spilling onto the floor. 

Dean rushes over, untying me. Cas rushes over and unties Andy, checking her over for serious wounds. “Are you ok?” Dean asks. “Yeah.” I feel the ropes loosen and I stand up, running over to Andy. She stands up and hugs me. “I thought Crowley said this was supposed to be easy.” she mumbles. Dean chuckles, and I join in. It feels good to laugh. “Can we get out of here? Wherever here is.” I say. Dean nods and leads us out, back to the outside world.

****************

After a shower and some rest, I feel much better. Cas healed all my bruises and cuts, doing the same for Andy. She’s still not totally used to it, occasionally poking the spots where she was once injured. “You guys hungry?” Dean asks. “I could use some food.” I give Dean my order, and he gives his usual snide comment about how salads are lame. “Can you get me a burger? And fries? And a milkshake? And extra pickles. I want extra pickles.” Andy says. “So you want everything except the kitchen sink. Got it.” Andy rolls her eyes at him and Dean laughs. 

Cas opts to go with Dean to pick up food, giving Andy and I the room to ourselves. “No playing hide the baguette while I’m gone, you two.” Dean says. Cas tips his head to the side, a confused look on his face. “Why would they be hiding a baguette? They don’t even have a baguette.” Dean sighs, telling Cas he’ll explain in the car. Poor Cas, clueless as always.

Once the two are gone, Andy turns to me. “Did you mean it?” she asks suddenly. “Mean what?” She gestures vaguely with her arms. “Y’know, the whole ‘I love you’ thing?” I smile at her. “Of course I did.” Her body sags in relief, her shoulders losing their tension. “Really?” she says quietly, doubt in her voice. I grab her hand, looking her in the eye. “When I said it, I meant it. I love you, Andy. More than I’ve ever loved anyone before. I would have told you sooner, but I was afraid. Anytime I love someone, they die. And I didn’t want that to happen to you.”

“Sam. I’m not going anywhere. It takes a lot more than a dollar store devil to get rid of me.” I laugh softly, squeezing her hand. “I love you, Sammy. And it’s terrifying, just how much I love you. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” These words, though they are just that, mean so much to me. I will remember these words. They are engraved on my heart, as cheesy as that sounds. I lean down and kiss her. This isn’t a kiss of lust, but a kiss of love, one that conveys meaning without speech. 

Despite just escaping a near death situation with an ancient demon, everything feels perfect. Right. Just sitting here, next to each other, hand in hand. Time is paused, the nightmares and monsters forgotten, if just for a moment. It’s moments like these, moments with her, that make me realize just how much I love her.

And Andy is right. Love is terrifying. It can be a weakness, like Djall said. But it can also be a strength. It gives you something to fight for, something to live for. And that overshadows any weakness it may cause. Love is rare, but once you find it, you never want to let it go. It becomes a part of you, a part you didn’t know you needed but needed all the same. And for once, I am complete.

A/N: Sorry for the abrupt ending! Hope you enjoyed :)


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